Here it is. A phone; a piece of machinery that connects people.For the last 10 years or so, I owe my financial well being to the telephone. In 1998 or so my current boss at a telecommunications company calls me with a job offer. I accept.
Cell phones bother me. Not the phones themselves but just using them. For years, during the 'dark times' they were an instrument of codependency and manipulation.
The cell phone rings. My ex. "Where's the whiskey? I KNOW you know where it is!" "Mr. Razor, could you please pick up your wife before the cops arrest her?" I could go on ad-nausium.
Now, there is a need to grow past that dislike, pushing into my uncomfortability zone. It is a necessity. I need to call. Need to use this tool. If you read this and receive my call, I sincerely hope you understand. This simple act of making a phone call is not always so simple.
2 comments:
Sounds like some bad memoires attached to the cell phone. Hmmm I bet a few calls from a hot blond saying “Hey Razor comes pick me up let’s go have some fun” might change your way of thinking about PHONES…
Big Al
Bad memories and a few too many beers. LOL
Ya, you know Al. That just might change a few opinions. :-)
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