Before the phone rings

  I hardly ever wake up happy. Correction: I do, I do if I have something really special to look forward to. For instance, if I have to make it to a flight to… almost anywhere will do, I jump off my bed in a rush of excitement humming vintage songs off tune. The day in question, however, was a regular Tuesday. Hopeless. I was bound to kill the first part of it, roaming around my tiny apartment or drinking an ok coffee at a shaky table near the bakery on the corner. Their coffee was sincerely, honestly okay. Not bad, but nowhere near spectacular, and certainly not worth walking an extra five hundred metres for. 

  I have a routine: I don’t touch my phone before making the first sip of my morning coffee. I insist that any day should start with something genuinely good, not with: “Dave, there were quite a few errors in your latest translation. Would appreciate more diligent work.” I do receive pleasant whatsapps, but the nasty ones are those that leave a trace. The phone zooms. I ignore it deliberately, I avoid even looking its way. The moment I start scrolling the anxiety loop is on. Once I touch my frilling phone I normally keep it close by till 10 p.m. and glance at it every ten minutes or so to make sure no disaster lands on me out of the blue. 

  The first whatsapp I encountered that morning read:

Beware of the pending catastrophe! Check and double check every message you get today. Try to stay safe. Best of luck! 

                                                                       Toad

Yeah, toad. This is how she introduced herself when we met three months ago at the fair. She suggested a fortune reading. I said no, said I didn’t believe in Tarot, horoscopes and stuff. She offered a cup of coffee. It was a rainy day, I looked at her heavy frame, felt a sudden surge of pity and accepted. Never say no to friendship. As soon as I finished my coffee Toad suddenly snatched my cup, turned it over and watched the abstract images that appeared on the saucer frowning. 

- I don’t like it,- she murmured,- let’s keep in touch.

I let her scribble my number on a yellow slip of paper. I didn't know people still exchanged phone numbers that way. 

That happened three months ago, on a rainy Tuesday. Toad has become one of the faceless random whatsapp contacts whom you never actually contact. I stared at her message, puzzled. I kept staring for a minute, indecisive. Should I delete all incoming messages just to be on the safe side? That would be ridiculous, though. How do I exactly check and double check my whatsapps? Read them several times in a row? Leave them unanswered even if they contain a direct question? Why did that old idiot send me a dubious message that would guarantee a headache and maybe a panic attack? 

 I made another cup of coffee and decided I would just be careful, double careful if anyone asks for money. There were 15 messages for me to read. Ten were harmless white noise or spam in the groups I occasionally followed. Five, however. demanded my attention and probably some answer. 

My boss wanted me to come to the office earlier, plenty of work. I said sure. The second message was a whatsapp from an old friend, catching up with me. I felt sorry I haven’t been in touch with the chap for quite a time. The third message was a long one - from my mom - she felt annoyed I hadn’t called her two days in a row. I wrote: “Sorry, mom. Am a beast. Will call twice a day and set a reminder to do so.” The fourth message was a strange one - an acquaintance insisted they had to see me and it was urgent. “Sorry, I am pretty busy these days” - I typed after a brief hesitation - “Let’s meet on the weekend.” The fifth message was a real challenge. It was on a dating app. I contacted Nina a couple of weeks ago and hadn’t hoped for an answer. Yet, here it was, brief and sweet: “I think we should meet in person. Do you agree?” I felt a wave of excitement - Nina was beautiful, no exaggeration here, not pretty or goodlooking, definitely beautiful. I started typing: “Sure! Tonight if it suits you…” - and stopped. I thought about the warning. Too bad I hit “send.” Now I had to find a way out. Hadn’t Toad warned me to be super cautious? She was an old fool, wasn’t she? Yet, I decided not to take any actions that day. I hoped Nina wouldn’t answer till midnight. Unfortunately, she answered in twenty minutes: “I would be happy to meet you tonight, and yes - I am totally free for you!” I froze. 

I think hard, think harder and then type: “There have been some unexpected developments. I am so sorry! Looking forward to meeting you in a couple of days. I wish I could make it tonight.” I reread the message before hitting “send”. I make sure there are no embarrassing spelling mistakes. I hesitate: don’t I sound too eager or too indifferent? I mentally cross my fingers and send the message to Nina. She doesn’t answer. I curse and make another cup of coffee. My phone beeps in seven minutes. “It’s ok. Looking forward to meeting you in person.” Have I just lost my chance with Nina? Wasn’t her message too distant? 

I sighed and put my phone on mute. I definitely had to do some work. I kept thinking about Nina, though. She was too good to be true for me, way out of my league. Probably, she was an imposter and I was a naive fool. I think that was what Toad tried to tell me. 

I calmed down and walked to the office. It’s a good thing my office is ten minutes walk from the apartment I rent. I tried to do as much as possible before 10 a.m. I knew from experience that after 10 the phones would start ringing. All of them. Everyone’s cellphones and office phones. It would be impossible to process serious material till people calm down around 15:00. 

My boss called me at 9:55. Told me he wanted to see me in his office. I closed my eyes to gather strength. One thing for sure: if there is trouble pending, you can’t avoid it, even if you try really hard. 

That was my exact thought at 10 p.m. when the doctor confirmed my ankle was broken. I left my boss elated, he praised me and offered a promotion. On my way out I slipped because of the coffee some idiot spilt in the middle of the hall. How ironic. I was angry with Toad. She could have simply told me: “beware of slippery floors.”