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"911? There's been an explosion…

We’ve all pocket-dialed. It’s become run-of-the-mill since the advent of the iPhone and Blackberry. But, dear readers, how many of us have dialed 911 during some pretty passionate outdoor love making?

So, readers, I’ve returned with a new story. And, might I say, I’m a little less than impressed with your lack of submissions. Still, I’m ready to share with you the contribution of one unlucky soul whose plight was not solely a sexual one.
We’ve all pocket-dialed. It’s become run-of-the-mill since the advent of the iPhone and Blackberry. But, dear readers, how many of us have dialed 911 during some pretty passionate outdoor love making?
Well, that’s what happened to one of our unlucky readers (who we shall call Steve). Steve and his long-term girlfriend have always loved having sex in public places, something many of us are afraid to do as it can lead to all sorts of mishaps – cuts, bruises, accidental exhibitionism, road rash, streak marks, babies, etc. Still, Steve and his girlfriend were having a perfectly pleasant time in the great outdoors when he heard yelling from somewhere frighteningly near his junk. He looked down and noticed that his phone had indeed dialed someone, and that someone was yelling from said phone. Now, where Steve’s situation differs from the oh-so-common pocket dial was his choice of dialee. Whereas some of us might appreciate picking up our phone only to hear grunts and moans on the other end, the Halifax Regional Police generally do not.
So what does someone do when they realize they’ve accidentally called the cops? The obvious answer is to hang up and run away. This instinct, however, is far weaker than the urge to continue coitus. So our reluctant hero did the only sensible thing and hung up only to remain in almost exactly the same position. Obviously, it didn’t take him very long to realize that in an emergency situation the police are not very likely to simply forget a 911 call; what with GPS-enabled phones and whatnot, they were most likely on their way to the scene at that very moment.
So dear readers, I pose this question to you: what do you do when you face the possibility of describing your predicament, with your pants around your ankles and to a police officer and his firefighting friends?
It was time to act, whether Steve wanted to or not. While trying to explain his shift in mood to his girlfriend he “re-panted” himself and began to run. After rounding a corner a safe distance away, Steve’s sense of civic duty began nagging at him and, my dear readers, I am happy to admit that Steve did in fact call back the HRP and explained to a particularly gruff-sounding lady his entire problem. After apologizing profusely to the brick-wall-of-a-woman, he hung up and immediately set the key-lock on his phone.
Let this be a lesson to us that pocket dialing, although seemingly harmless, can be damaging to one’s social-, and far more importantly, one’s sex-life. Locks on phones exist for a reason.
We owe a debt to our friend Steve, who has bravely shared this story. And although he doesn’t stand alone in the “accidentally calling the police” category (yes, I have done it myself), we cannot thank him enough for sharing his story. No matter who you pocket dial in the future, no matter how embarrassing, just remember: it’s not the police, and you’re not banging someone.
So friends, if you have a story, even if not as fantastical as Steve’s, please share it it with me. People need to know that if there is someone far more embarrassed than they are. Email me at marysadshaw@gmail.com and I will treat your stories with great discretion and respect, as soon as I’m finished dying of laughter.
In solidarity,
Mary Sadshaw

By David J. Shuman

David is a second-year journalism student at King's, is engagement/news editor of The Watch, and a copy editor of The Pigeon. He writes on student politics, campus happenings, and school news. 

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