The caller identified herself as being from 911 mobile-response or cellular response (I can't really remember what she called it). I did see their name when I looked at my phone and knew it was really from them, though. I can't remember word for word but the call went something like this.....
Caller: "Hello, this is 911 mobile response. Someone from your phone made a call to 911. Is everything o.k?"
Me: (Stunned. Pulls phone away from ear and stares at it - as if expecting to see a 911 operator jumping out from the phone.) "No, that's impossible. I didn't call you and I didn't loan it to anyone either."
Caller: "Where do you keep your cell phone?"
Caller: "Where was your cell phone? Was it in your pocket?"
Caller: "Which pocket?"
Me: "My back pocket."
Caller: "Were you sitting on it?"
Me: "Well, I was driving so yeah, I guess I was."
Caller: "Sometimes when you have your phone in your back pocket, the numbers can depress and with some phones, if a number is held down long enough, it will automatically call 911."
Caller: "So you don't want to put your phone in your pocket and then sit on it."
Me: "Oh. O.k. Sorry!"
Caller: "No problem!"
You know, it's sort of a freaky thing when you butt-dial 911 (please excuse my wording, if I offended anybody. They don't really call it behind-dial.)
You don't really know how to handle it when your body starts rebelling against you and calls 911. Maybe it was all those chocolates I ate.
Or maybe it just got tired of sitting around waiting for me to start that diet program that I keep talking about.
I don't really know what happened. It just took matters into its own.........ummmm......hmmmmmm. Never mind.
One minute I was safe, and the next thing I knew my behind was turning me in to the FBI.
O.k., maybe it wasn't that bad. But still, it is obviously mad at me about something......