The Story of Work and the Phone(s)

So work wanted me in on Friday. Or possibly Saturday. I really don't know. All I know is that I went home to Oakville on Friday afternoon after spending the day out and about after class, only to realize that I'd left my phone in the cradle. There was a message on the counter at home that my boss wanted me to call him at the restaraunt. I couldn't get ahold of him. I went to the cottage, as planned, on Saturday and played phone tag with Frank (my boss, the owner of Il Posto) on Saturday. Finally I got home today to discover that he'd wanted to find out if I could work on Saturday, though I'm still not 100% sure. Since a) I don't normally work Saturdays unless its a big emergency, and b) this whole thing was a big fucked up communication error, I doubt I will be in trouble, though I think some apologizing is definitly in order.