The pencil is behind your ear, or, No, I don't have your phone

Chilling after the luau, trying to take pictures with a potential beau, a friend (let's call her Paquita) was accosted by a short white woman (let's call her Crack-er Head) . One of you took my phone, she accused. Ok, honestly, when she walked up to Paquita and her beau-to-be (lets call him Sam), the camera was about to be snapped.

So, everyone is all smiles and not sure we just heard the drunken accusation that has been thrown. We sat there trying to figure out the joke. But the bitch was serious. My friend's sister (let's call her Lisa) countered, We don't even know you.

But the Crack-er Head was determined to find her phone; you know, the one she thought Paquita and Sam were hiding. She made Paquita and Sam get up and move out of the way, so she could look where they were sitting. We were all still watching her, amazed that anyone could be this sloshed and ridiculous. What was this girl's trip? She must have downed MANY mai-tai's at the luau.

How did Crack-er Head decide that we were the offensive crew who had conspired to steal her cell phone? I guess we will never know the answer to that question. But, it could be that we were the only people there. Or it could be that we were the only people of color in the vicinity. Both of those statements are actually true.

Cracker-er Head was furiously dialing someone else's cell phone to make her phone ring. I hear it ringing.

Not finding the phone underneath Paquita and Sam, she decided her phone was in Paquita's bag. One of the guys who was with Sam suggested that maybe it had fallen into the bushes. She was not convinced, but she took a look anyway. In any case, our offensive crew was half compliant, half incredulous: Paquita and Sam not only moving out of the way, but actually helping Crack-er Head look through the bushes. Sam's friends were torn between watching the spectacle and helping find the missing phone. Lisa and I were watching and laughing.

She just kept saying that she could hear it ringing. Bending over the bushes, looking for the phone, her boyfriend realized that the phone was in Crack-er Head's back pocket.

He looked embarrassed; but she was still pissed, somehow we had caused this problem by slipping that damn phone into her back pocket. She did not excuse herself, apologize or thank us for the trouble. She just marched off, indignant and annoyed, phone in hand.