call waiting

I got a new cell phone this weekend. As some of you may know, I am not A Cell Phone Person. I’m part of a dying breed that really only owns one in case my car ever breaks down on a dark street or I’m trapped in an alley with ninjas. To be fair, I’ll definitely use it if I’m on my way somewhere and need directions, or if I’m running late, or driving to the Cape (read: lots of time to kill on a long, straight road). But there are people who live and die by theirs (some of them are even people I know and love) and I’m not one of them. When these people are available, they can be yours within five seconds, and when they’re busy, they still usually take a few seconds to tell you that they’re busy. And if I actually make it to voice mail, half the time I get a call from them while I’m leaving a message. That’s efficiency for you.

In any case, I’m probably the last person that a cell phone salesperson wants to deal with. The last time I got a new phone, it was two years ago and only because I had a StarTac that got me mocked at Radio Shack. I kid you not, an employee actually called the other employees over: “You have to see this girl’s phone! I didn’t even know they made these anymore!” Ouch. So I upgraded, two years went by, and then this one stopped working. So the phone guy asked me all the important questions to determine my wireless personality.

Him: So, what are you looking for in a phone?

You know, the usual… sense of humor, stability. How many times a day do you think they have to hear crapass jokes like that?

Me: Not much, to be honest with you. I’m only replacing this one because it’s broken.
Him: Are you interested in bluetooth capabilities?
Me: And what are those, exactly?

My apologies to my dad and Jason, both of whom took the time to explain this phenomenon to me on separate occasions. During which I apparently tuned them out and started thinking about something else, like the sociopolitical landscape or what those feisty Gilmore Girls might be up to. So phone guy takes a stab at it.

Me: Oh, okay. I don’t think I need all that, but I do want a headset.

He laughs at me.

Me: And I think I want a flip phone.
Him: Great! Here are some of your options.

At this point I realize that every phone in the store is a flip phone.

Him: Do you want a camera phone?
Me: Maybe. Are they expensive?
Him: No, this one has a camera, and this one, and they’d all be free to you with the rebate [and contract and mortgaging of your soul].
Me: Oh. Well then yeah, okay.
Him: Do you text a lot?

I texted everyone I know while I was at jury duty, and adult driver’s ed, but I suspect that doesn’t really count.

Me: No, not really.
Him: Do you ever find yourself going over your minutes?
Me: No, never.
Him: Right. Stupid question.

I considered the Razor, but it was very shiny and metallic, and overall just a little too much phone for this girl. Plus God knows when I’ll trade up again, and the Razor will undoubtedly look reallllly dated in 2008, by which time everyone will have a cell phone brain implant and you’ll be able to call someone just by thinking about them.

Yeah, that could be a bad thing. Like tonight, watching Armageddon, I would’ve been a little embarrassed if my brain suddenly called Steve Buscemi. I mean, I would’ve talked to him, but I would’ve felt bad if I interrupted his dinner or something.

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