One Friday morning, I was particularly happy. (A phrase in which ‘Friday’ is the operative word and usually in no small way contributes to one’s happiness.)
This particular morning, I was flitting through the office before going down to the coffee cart for my fix. I’m often found flitting around coffee o’clock, singing the praises of my destination so sweetly that I end up with a couple of extra orders to boot. Post caffeine hunter-gathering, I came back, expertly balancing mine and my colleague’s fix atop my shocking book (Dec 1st), which was also serving as a support for a container of rice crackers, my phone and two nectarines. Depositing a coffee on the front desk for the receptionist, I wavered as I scooped up my belongings, looking down in time to see a nectarine threatening to go rolling towards a squishy demise off the desk’s end. As I’d previously almost lost the same one upon collecting my coffees in the first place; I was swift and saved it in one fell swoop…
…but not deft enough. Cue phone crashing onto the shiny white tiles below.
Still excited in my caffeine deprived state about soon being able to drink my concoction, I didn’t really register what had happened.
“Haha, I saved a nectarine and dropped a blackberry!” I quipped, thinking my fruity comment witty. The receptionist smiled politely.
Not receiving any texts or missed calls that day didn’t bother me. I’m not Angelina Jolie after all, and people may not always need to talk to me.
But the next day when a plan to go out was taking foreverrrrrrrrrr to be arranged, and my yo-biatch-when-are-we-meeting text wouldn’t send, I was a bit sus. Then more so, when several calls (fine, mostly from my mother) ‘hadn’t come through’.
A call to Optus and ten minutes of conversation with a call centre girl with a excruciatingly high-pitched Boston accent confirmed that I’d have to go into a store to have my SIM tested against another phone. Which I did, this morning, to no preferred avail.
“Yeah, it’s the handset. We sell them here for $150. Ummmm, yeah. Can’t tell ya much else.”
The Angel and Devil on my shoulder promptly began to argue.
Devil: “That’s not actually too expensive. Aren’t Blackberries the phone of choice for haughty, snobby businessmen?”
Angel: “Oi. $150 IS a lot to you of late. And anyway, you know we got that Blackberry for free from Marco after he didn’t need it. And we felt bad enough then about joining the smart phone crew that we didn’t even get the internet connected until the other week.”
Devil: “But this is your chance to get an iphone. An IPHONE. You know you’re the last person not to have one of those. And besides, Marco didn’t want the Blackberry ’cause he already had an iphone.”
Angel: “Yeah, but he’s a posh, tech-ed up European. Couldn’t we just chuck the SIM in any old Nokia 5110 to be able to make calls and receive texts, which is what a phone is for anyw- – -?”
Devil: (hissing) “Iphhhhhhhhhone…”
My shoulder companions went on like this for some time, until, on the way to class I decided to make a call one more time just to see.
And got connected.
Excusing myself disjointedly for having called for no reason at all, Angel rejoiced and Devil cursed.
But I’m going to side with Angel.
Still connected and slightly more cashed up than I might have been.
Happy.
PS: Now, what can I spend that $150 on??
the promise of tea 