Last night, I went to call Beau (number six on the old speed dial) and chuckled to myself.
He used to be number three, because that's his favorite number.
But then, a few years ago, we had a hiccup. We broke up (my recollection)/were on a break (his recollection). When he came to his senses and we got back together, I demoted him to number six and gave him a stupid ringtone.
Which is silly, really. He's never going to call himself from my phone, and he'll never be around to hear the ringtone.
Sadly, I must admit that the whole thing made me feel better.
(I told you it was petty.)
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