Ring-a-ling-a-truck

I am daily acquiring more office supplies at my new job, some cannibalized from nearby inert offices, and some arriving magically after I put little sticky notes on the catalog pages and give the catalog to our assistant. Each item vies for prime real estate on my desk, with the things I use most going within easy reach, such as a week's worth of chocolate. 


Other, less important items -- think anything non-chocolate -- get pushed farther away. One of these is my phone. After two weeks, I have had five phone calls, and three of them were for somebody else. So the phone keeps moving farther and farther away.


Soon there will not even be room on my desk for the phone. It will migrate to a desk drawer, perhaps, and then to a table outside my office, then perhaps on the microwave in the kitchen, maybe to the roof. It may find itself, eventually, on one of those roving lunch trucks everyone in the city is enamored with, the ones that serve more gourmet food and are never in the same spot two days in a row.


My phone might find a home on a lunch truck that comes around once a week or so. When it rings, the following conversation may occur:


Caller: Hello, is H. there?


Lunch truck operator/phone answerer: No, only on Wednesdays from 11 to 2. Can I interest you in pan con lechon?


Caller: (Click.)


(Following Wednesday, 12:30) 
Caller: Hello, is H. there, please?


Lunch truck/phone: Sorry, nope.


Caller (testily): I thought you said Wednesdays from 11 to 2.


Lunch truck/phone: Well, you're out of luck today. But we got a special on --


Caller: (Click.)


(Following Wednesday, 11:03)
Caller (more testily): H., please.


Lunch truck/phone: Sure, you want that with sweet potato fries?


Caller: Excuse me?


Lunch truck/phone: The H special. You want it with sweet potato fries?


Caller: What -- no! I want to talk to H.


Lunch truck/phone: Well, she ain't showed up, so we named a special after her for the folks who call. You want --


Caller: (Click.)


Eventually, if my phone loves me, it will move itself to a truck called something like Sweet Nothings Cupcakes, and occasionally phone in an order for me. Then it would merit a place on my desk again.