I got a cellphone over the weekend. I haven't had one since 2000, and didn't especially want one, since telephony can be a gateway drug leading to direct human contact.
But Nurse Kathryn insisted I needed one, and offered to do the human contact necessary to consummate the relationship with Cingular.
So we went to the Cingular store where I sat with a white-knuckled grip on the arms of the chair. I now have a KRZR (pronounced cra-zer, which isn't a word, but maybe it should be), and a plan that has 450 rollover minutes plus some number of regular hours plus some number of other hours plus some other shit but no text messaging but one friend has already sent me a text message which I'll have to pay $45 to have received or something.
And I don't even really want to talk to anyone.
2 comments:
resistance is futile...
I need your number so we can discuss the merits of asking "what is art"!
< /lurk >
No camera for making things that may or may not be art? No mp3 player? Web access to check and update your blog and email? I don’t think you’ve been assimilated just yet. Better keep an eye on it though.
Yours in poor connections and additional fees,
Occupant
< lurk >
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