Throwing stuff at the internet to see what sticks
Wednesday, January 22, 2003 More Than Words
Trash needs a new cell phone. The last one she owned used to drop its antenna so easily that she had to stick it on with first aid tape. Eventually it quit working entirely, so she took over a hand-me-down phone from her friend Bitter. That one, in addition to being a couple of years old and not mush smaller than a shoe, is having problems of its own. Specifically, it sometimes acts like a one-way communicator. You can hear people talking on it, but they can’t hear you.
Now that I think of it, there are probably a lot of people who could use a phone like that.
Anyway, the semi-failure of the phone has led to some interesting conversations, even though they’re not conversations in the strictest sense of the word. They’re more like monologues in the form of yes/no questions that are punctuated with beeps.
Oh, didn’t I mention that even when the person on the other end can’t hear your voice, they can still hear when you press the buttons?
Trash called me from the road yesterday to say hi. Or, more precisely, beep. I picked up my office phone on the second ring.
“Oh, hi, honey!”
“Are you there yet?”
beep beep. [That means no.]
“Is everything okay?”
beep. [That means yes.]
“Is there anything you need to tell me?”
“Do you want me to ask you anything in particular?”
“So you were just calling to check in?”
“I miss you.”
“You know, I was thinking I’d paint the second bedroom black while you’re gone. What do you think?”
beep beep beep beep beep beep beep beep beep beep.
“Wow, how many yesses was that?”
“That sounded like more than two yesses to me.”
“Okay, I’ll take care of it tonight. I really didn’t think you’d be this excited about it.”
beepbeep. beepbeep. beepbeep.
“Aw, my heart beats for you too.”
beep freaking beep.
“Wow, how’d you do that?”
“Okay, well, you stay safe. Are you going to call me later?”
“Honey? Give me a call later, okay?”
“I have to go.”
If I don’t answer the phone tonight, it’s because I can’t hear it over the noise from the power sprayer. But call me anyway, okay?”
She either needs a new phone or lessons in Morse code. But I’m hoping that it’ll make up for it when she comes home and sees her newly black second bedroom. I’m betting she’ll take one look at that and she won’t even need words.
posted by M. Giant 4:20 PM 0 comments