Papa’s Got A Brand New… Phone?

November 13, 2011 at 1:25 pm (Sweet sticky things, The Easy Chair)

This is why I can have nice things.

I have confessed to being slow on the uptake when it comes to technology. I tend to make sure things catch on before jumping onto the bandwagon. (New Coke anyone? Oops, sorry can’t hear you. Let me shut off Zune.)I want to be stuck with something obsolete only if I’ve worn its usefulness down to a nub.

I avoided cell phones until 2005. I started working at Master P’s, and dating ThatGirl. She was uncomfortable with me being incommunicado other than relying on the landline in the store, so she gave me her son’s cell phone after he upgraded. It had limited daytime minutes and texting cost a quarter apiece, but I could be found at a second’s notice. No customized ringtones or alerts, but that’s kinda space age for these rates.

When iPhone came out, ThatGirl was one of the early believers. I learned about apps. We could make snarky comments about the lady at the table across the way, or reveal the favorite breakfast nook of a beleaguered county sheriff. These days people Tweet between tables without realizing someone across the room is talking about them.

The next hand-me-down was a tiny flip-phone. It looked like a black-and-silver phaser from the original Star Trek. I could take pictures with it. (Couldn’t send them to anyone. Internet access was enabled long enough to obtain two ringtones. Then off. (Tones cost $5. Data cost to download?$8. Fuuuuck.)I put the phone in my pocket, where it has been riding since.

Until the other day, that is. As I texted Rain about evening plans, my phone had a stroke. Gah! I retyped the message, and as my thumb reached for the send button… zap! Died again. The battery, fully charged, would get hot and die after a few hours. Time to contemplate change.

It occurred to me that I had two days left before I would be billed for another month of Sprint, so I accelerated the decision-making process. Meg has been using Cricket, and has had no issues. Since I am of simple needs with cell phone stuff, I investigated. For ninety-two cents more a month, I could get unlimited use of everything, including web access. Mobile Twitter? Fuckin’ look out, world.

I left for work twenty minutes early to investigate options. I looked for the Cricket store. It seemed EVERY phone company was represented BUT Cricket. Ooh! There’s someone I can ask. Rain was standing on the corner with some friends, giving me a combination smile/stinkeye.

“Why you not been answerin’ my calls motherfucker?” she hollered playfully as I got a kiss on the cheek. “You runnin’ from me?”

“No… I am having phone issues. I can’t find the fucking Cricket store.” I looked to and fro.

“It’s right there, next to Sprint.”

“You mean behind that big fuckin’ truck?” Aha! “I’ll call you later. If I can…”

I smoothed through the Cricket process, and had a new phone plan in minutes. My first call was to Dr T, informing him I would be a few minutes late. Grinder answered, promising to relay the message.

I managed to switch my old number to the new phone and get activated while Dr T worked the till. I turned into Pan for a while. (Only looking up from the phone when directly spoken to.) Ah, the thrill of new toys. It wore off after a day or so.

I played with it, took a self-portrait. Sent it to Rain. A few seconds later, a response. “Did you get a new phone?”


Now I had to set it *my* way, which means customized alerts and ringtones. I quickly obtained the two I am known for, Tubular Bells and Theme from Halloween. I added the Theme from Dudley DoRight, assigning it to co-workers and security types. (Hi Starling!)

I can also assign pictures to faces in my phone book.

Later in the night, I see the bright eyes of Rain peeking in at me from outside. “Hey baby, let’s see your new toy.”

I showed her, we played with the features. I said, “Hey, look up here” and snapped her picture.

“Lemme see.”

I showed her. We took a couple more shots. “I know what you really want to take a picture of.” She turned and bent over. I admired her every curve, but with the black spandex tights she was wearing I’d get nothing but a black heart shape.

“I have a better idea.” I summoned her to an area with high shelves, unzipped her jacket and reached into her blouse. I angled things just so and snapped a picture of her nipple.

“What the- I’m on camera here!”

“More than one, baby.” I zipped her back up just as the train pulled in.

It's for me...

Now with unlimited texting, we shot missives back and forth with reckless abandon. At one point she texted me, “I think you need therapy. Nude therapy.”

I am all for that! I found the picture of her nipple and sent it to her. “It’s a start…”

She came back later in the night. “So, I’m on the MAX talking away at my homegirl, and this guy I’ve never seen asks me, ‘Ma’am, why is there a picture of a woman’s titty on yore phone?’ I told him there ain’t no picture of a titty on my phone when lo and behold there’s a picture of a woman’s titty on my phone! Why did you send me that?”

“You’re the one that mentioned nude therapy?”

“Heh. Motherfucker kept asking me to send him the picture…”

So the fun continues. I have been making custom alerts for text messages, and snapping wacky pictures. I feel so… 2004!

I want to thank ThatGirl for that gift of a phone way back when. I got your money’s worth out of it.

Got a feeling I will get my money’s worth out of this one as well…

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