It’s never a good thing when my conversations begin with the statement, “I did something to my phone yesterday.”
But I did – something to my phone I mean. Put your perverted thoughts away. I did something that made it misbehave, which made me reboot it, so it did a half-boot, got stuck worse and caused me to rip its battery giving guts out. Oh, don’t feel sorry for the phone. I put the batteries back in.
And it still has a problem.
At random times throughout the day the stupid phone will choose some song, from some artist, both known only to the phone, and play them for me and everyone else within listening distance.
So far the music hasn’t been bad, or should I say it’s been tolerable. Then it started a new scheme to confuse me. When my phone rings, it answers itself and scares the bee-jee-zees out of whomever is calling. Just the other day my parents called to check on me. I’ve been sick for 5 weeks and they wanted to see if I was still alive. I was, but I didn’t answer the phone because I was talking to a friend on a land line. (Yes, they do still exist and I was using one.)
My phone didn’t care. It answered itself and was just loud enough for my parents to hear my pathetic voice and fear for my life. My parents called my oldest sister, who texted me, to which I did not reply because I was on the other phone. So she texted my son who called me, which I did not answer because I was on the other phone. Son then called another person to find out where I was because I didn’t not answer his call – because I was on the other phone. Oldest son then began texting me to warn me of the impending tsunami effect of concern coming my way, and to do my best to head it off.
What son didn’t know was that I had already tried to call my parents to let them know I had once again been to the doctor and was still alive. I didn’t get to talk to my parents because their phone decided to answer as a fax machine. I don’t speak FAX, neither does my phone.
Personally I think all these machines are in cahoots and are taking over ruling the world.
Whatever, I survived the concern from everyone and went about my business. At lunch the very next day, my phone once again chose some random song by Celine Dion and serenaded those of us in the break room at the time. I ripped its battery guts out again, and rebooted it.
I’m beginning to think it really does have a personality of its own. I just wish it would use it for good, like taking the cleaning to the cleaners, doing the grocery shopping, or even making a sandwich or salad for lunch. I guess given the evil it could do, playing a bit of music now and then is tolerable. Unless it plays jazz or rap. If it starts that crap, I shall not return the battery after the degutting.
From the life and mind of Wanda M. Argersinger
© 2014 Wanda M. Argersinger