Ice Ice Baby
Stamped: August 8th, 2005 | Toggle Similar
Tagged: cell phones, emergency, friends and losers, mom, neuroses.
The other day I was the lucky recipient of the following email that's been floating around the net-o-sphere lately. 
Subject: IN CASE OF EMERGENCY
Paramedics will turn to a victim's cell phone for clues to that person's identity. You can make their job much easier with a simple idea that they are trying to get everyone to adopt: ICE.
ICE stands for In Case of Emergency. If you add an entry in the contacts list in your cell phone under ICE, with the name and phone no. of the person that the emergency services should call on your behalf, you can save them a lot of time and have your loved ones contacted quickly. It only takes a few moments of your time to do.
Paramedics know what ICE means and they look for it immediately. ICE your cell phone NOW!
Please pass this along.
I looked at it as a 'why not' kind of thing, like superstitions. It's probably just good common sense not to walk under a ladder and what harm is there to having an ICE number. In fact I heard that the trend started in some of the swankier parts of Europe.
I went ahead and grabbed my cell phone but the only problem was deciding whose number I should put in there? Everyone I know, let me rephrase that, everyone that I trust to come through in the case of dire emergency lives out in California, 3000 miles away. A lot of help that would be in my hour of need. The more I thought about it though I figured that if I programmed my mom's number in she'd so be on top it. I imagine her dropping everything and hopping on a plane, whereas my ex-boyfriend out in Brooklyn would probably ask "How hurt is she?…do you know that she broke up with me?". So I put mom's number in…I've got to remember to tell her now.
The other day I was out with a friend of mine walking around the MOMA. He happened to mention that he recently programmed an ICE number into his cell phone. I started going on and on about how I agonized over which number to put. He turned to me and said, "Well, I put your number in…why didn't you just put mine? I mean, come on Meme, who else do you know in New York?" As I stood there staring at him, watching the social fabric of my life unravel, I was at once dumbfounded. Firstly, how do I go about explaining to him that while I enjoy his company immensely, the fact that he's nearly a complete loser in all other aspects of his life causes some hesitation on my part? And, on the other hand, I cannot take on the responsibility as his ICE person. Anyone who knows me knows that my average response rate to voicemails is 8.5 days, that is if I listen to said voicemail at all. Then there's the issue of my weak stomach. If you were mangled, dismembered, or even slightly bruised you can count me pulling a Rizzo in the hospital lobby. To top it all off, I'm not very sentimental. In the unfortunate case that you were to kick the bucket, I can't say that I possess the finesse required to inform your loved ones in a gentle manner. Most likely I'd just send out a mass email.
So if any of you out there want to program me as your ICE person, I am currently accepting applications.
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This reminds me that in my apartment building, they actually picked a “fire marshall” who is in charge of helping everyone out in case of fire. Of course, they picked this guy who is always home — because he is always unemployed and steals newspapers from in front of other people’s apartments. Our lives are in his hands.
I’m going to put you in as my ICE number, but because I’m strongly DNR (Do Not Resuscitate) when they call just say, “Do you know that HE broke up with ME!” and hang up. That way I can go out looking like a real ladies man.
Poor Rizzo, she has one unfortunate night in a swanky bar, and now her name is synonymous with vomiting. i’ve been there Rizzo. Feel your pain. I’m sure there are a lot of people that could say “I pulled a Lauren” when referring to puking, but my name is common and yours is cool…
JJ - I’m there for you…you’ll go out in a blaze of glory, I promise.
And trust me, I’ve pulled a Lauren more times than I choose to remember.
My only problem with this is this scenario:
Me, being loaded into an ambulance, half-unconscious: “Ice!!!!”
EMT: “He’s hot. Get him ICE.”
Me: “Noooooo!”
EMT: “He’s not hot. Scratch the ice.”
Me: “Phone. Ice.”
EMT: “Oh, get his cell phone. It’s making him cold.”
(They pull out my cell phone from my pocket.)
Me: “Nooooo! ICE ON PHONE!”
EMT: “Buddy, I’m not putting your phone in ice.”
Then I die. From frustration.