Pink Cell

Is it a sign that a man is gay if he has a pink metallic phone? That is the broad sweeping stereotype that I feel prey to at the downstairs hotel bar in the W at Lexington and 50th this evening. Annie and I had an amazing evening to cap off a memorable day in the city and were making one last stop before heading to Uptown. As we were paying the bill Annie asked me if I saw her cell phone in the booth where we were sitting. This is not the first time that Annie's phone has disappeared for no apparent reason, so I whipped out my blackberry and call her number (I have done this a couple times before) so we could hear where it was, but instead of hearing it ring in Annie's purse I hear:

*"Hello...wait, this is not your phone?" CLICK

At which point we realize that Annie's phone is somewhere else in Manhattan. So I call again:

*"Hello, Andy?" (He read the caller ID)

"Hi, this is Andy."

*"Hi, who are you."

"I am the owner of the phone that you are speaking on."

*"We'll we found it, but the bigger question is, what the hell are you doing with a pink phone?"

"It is..."

*"Never mind that, we'll deal with that later. Where are you?"

From this point we proceed to figure out where the phone is and how to make the swap. Annie and I caught the next 6 train to Midtown and made our way to the W Hotel on Lexington. There we meet Chris and Caroline, the rescuers of the phone. We had a great laugh about his accusation that me having a pink metallic phone was a sign of my sexual preference. Caroline had yelled at him for being insensitive and potentially offensive for assuming that a man with a pink phone was interested in other men.

All in all it was a successful, though not politically correct at times, story of strangers helping strangers in the heart of the city, pink metallic phone and all.