I found my phone

I served this guy on Finchley on Friday, five minutes later he was back on the stall.  He says,

“I think I might have left my phone on your stall”.

Now there are over a hundred different trays over gear on my stall, it would take you forever to go through the lot.  So I said to him,

“Do you know the number? I’ll ring it”.

As luck would have it he did know his number, not everyone does.  I rung his phone and shouted out to all of the punters to keep an ear open but alas, no ringtone was heard.

The guy left to search elsewhere.

Fifteen minutes later I got a call on my mobile.  It came up as a number I didn’t recognise so I thought it was either PPI or someone I owe money to but I answered it anyway.

On the other end of the line was an indignant sounding man who said,

“Did you just call my phone!”

I recognised the voice, it was the bloke who had just been on the stall.

“Yes mate”, I said, “You were on my stall, you lost your phone, you asked me to ring it”.

Realising who I was his mood instantly lightened.

“Oh yes, thank you”, he said, then he went on to say, “I found my phone by the way”.

You don’t say.

That’s this week’s report from Pete the Market Trader, the man on the street, Literally.