CRESTFALLEN

i’m like a doe-eyed, flustered virgin skirting around the hole, petrified by the thought of that initial penetration.

if you’re anything like me (and if you’re not, you’re a tool), you don’t care much for blazing hot technological innovations. you don’t need a flashy stereo or computer, you don’t need a blackberry or a sidekick, you don’t need a pimped out cell phone with 1000 different rings and jewelry (unless said jewelry is purchased from here) glued to your hip at all times. if you’re anything like me, your cell phone has remained on “silent” since the day you purchased it, and your voice mail greeting just says, “greetings.” if you’re anything like me, you’re a step above being a luddite.

so you could imagine my utter confusion when i was told i was available for a cell phone upgrade. why on earth would i need to upgrade my phone? it’s small, it doesn’t make a lot of noise, and its in pretty good physical shape (it works out twice a week at the YMCA). content to rest on my laurels, i didn’t bother going for the upgrade. but then a few weeks ago my phone started behaving strangely. it wouldn’t sit in the charger anymore. the battery lost all power after a matter of hours. the face was dented. all the “little thing” started catching up with it. if my cell phone was a dog, it would be time to consider putting down the poor thing. old age, man, sometimes it just sneaks up on you.

today i went for a new phone. a family friend works for verizon so he offered to get me a phone for $40. “wow, cheap!” i thought. when i arrived at his office he pulled out a box and started talking about how it was top of the line. he pulled his phone out of his pocket and he showed me how to program all these different functions i’ll never need, like a calendar schedule, a speakerphone and voice recognition something or other. then he showed me the camera and video recorder and sound recorder. he set a fucking alarm to ring on the loudest possible volume every year on his daughter’s birthday and i don’t even know how to turn the thing off. i don’t even remember what day his daughter’s birthday is so i can’t find it to disable it. all i really wanted was for him to program a button to call my voicemail, which i had to remind him to do as i was being shooed out the door.

if you’re anything like me, you’re wishing you just had your old phone back. the one with the buttons that didn’t make weird noises every time you pressed them. the one that wasn’t insanely loud. the one that wasn’t flashing and buzzing and beeping and blooping every time you turn it on. the one that just sat there in silence and vibrated when a call came in. the one that wasn’t manufactured by NASA in conjunction with lockheed martin and raytheon in an attempt to create the quintessential, dare i say paramount personal telecommunications device.

if you’re anything like me, after that first phone call comes in and the thing explodes in lights and bursts of weird noises, you’ll want to hurl the thing in the fucking ocean and just walk away.