I hate cell phones. Yes. I know. The fact that you can be walking anywhere in the world and talk to just about anyone else anywhere in the world is amazing technology. It's like magic in fact. But let's be honest. Cell phone technology is just one step up from fax technology in terms of sheer annoyingness. Why should I be excited about a phone that sounds like I'm calling from Italy 57 years ago? Am I wrong to expect perfect reception? If my iron only ironed parts of my shirt in certain rooms of the house, I would totally throw it away.
Even more than I hate the haphazard functionality of the phones themselves, I hate how the cell phone has turned everyone into an asshole. Yes. I love the fact that as my friend you want to talk to me all the time. I'm also okay with you calling me to pass the time while you stand in line at the post office or sit in traffic. But don't call me and then immediately start talking to the bank teller. Or the grocery clerk. Or yell at your children while you pretend to have a conversation with me. That part of your life is boring. It's also called being rude.
So, call me a total hypocrite when I tell you that my new cell phone makes me feel like a better person. It's so awesome.
The phone is not actually new (which makes me feel good about the purchase because I didn't have to break The Compact), it's just new to me. My ex-boyfriend Demolition had to buy a fancy text-y phone because his socially retarded, former Hollywood boss can't be bothered to actually speak to any of his employees. He prefers to text everyone, even if they are just in the next room. Naturally, the second Demolition bought a $400 phone so he could be conveniently textually abused by his employer, he lost the phone. So he had to go out an spend another $400 to replace the phone. God forbid his boss have to email Demolition instead. Of course, at this point Demolition discovered that the original phone hadn't been lost. It had merely been misplaced--in his house no less. It was around this time that Demolition was fired without cause, because that's what crazy people in Hollywood who can't form personal relationships do--they tend to go through staff quickly. So now Demolition had two fancy phones that he hadn't wanted in the first place. So last week I bought one of the phones from him. Okay, I didn't actually buy it from him because I still don't have any money. But I'm going to pay him for the phone once I get my first paycheck off the movie...if that ever happens. Demolition told me I could have the phone for $150, but since Demolition is notoriously horrible about negotiating a fair deal for himself ever, I told him I'd pay him $200 instead.
Over the weekend Mr. Foxypants took me to the Verizon store and added me to his "family plan" which is nice because it's way cheaper than having my own plan, and is one of those dumb things that make me feel like I'm in a serious relationship with my boyfriend.
Today I went back to the store to recycle the three old cell phones we had in the house instead of selling them on ebay. Verizon will recondition the phones and donate them as emergency phones to victims of domestic violence.