On Cell-Phones. Louis Shalako.

Louis Shalako

My brother was telling me that I got to sign up for some $35.00/month cell-phone deal.

It's a two-year contract and then you got yourself a free phone. It costs another $50.00 to get it unlocked and then you can get any service you want. I have a free phone here. The sound is very low and I haven't bothered to hack around in there to try and fix it, not without a manual. So far, I haven't even bothered to put a $10.00 pre-paid card on it.

Whatever money was on there, automatically ran out at the end of last month…which is, admittedly, a pain in the ass. Somebody lost ten bucks there, that is for sure.

...sure glad it wasn't me.

Here's the thing: I can get a $90.00 touchscreen, (dual sim), unlocked. Order it online and it's here in a few days. I can put ten bucks on it, or twenty, which is good for a month, or even get a $250.00 card which is good for a year. Then I can ditch the old landline phone, which is costing me roughly $35.00/month, or $420.00/year and I can't even take it anywhere.

I'm not disputing that a phone is a good thing to have when your car is old and you work some ways out of town. Sooner or later, that car must break down. They always do, don’t they?

It’s a long walk otherwise.

I'm big and ugly and hitchhiking can be a problem for guys like me...oh, and when I'm hitchhiking, it's always an emergency, isn't it?

There are a couple of things I hate about cell-phones. The only time anyone ever called me, I was driving down the road at a hundred kilometres an hour with some big truck on my ass and distracted driving is illegal—and dangerous. Unless it’s hands-free, it’s a bad idea to try and answer it. And by the time I pulled over, of course, the phone wasn’t ringing anymore.

You had to try and figure out who that was and call them back. As often as not, it was my mother.

“So, Mom. What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing, Honey. I was just wondering how you were…”

Argh.

How am I doing? I’m sitting by the side of the road, having another useless conversation.

I’ve only got a ten-buck card on here for emergencies, and this is costing me money—

You know what I hate even worse? It’s the way people keep changing the plan at the last minute. They do that to me now, when I’m sitting here for hours beside my landline phone. At least I’m home, where I can take a shit or make a pot of soup if I need it. If we agreed to meet at ten-thirty for a coffee, or for any kind of business or personal thing, for fuck’s sakes, don’t call me up at the last minute and tell me you’re running late and would I mind if we put this off for another hour or so. I've sat here all fucking day, sometimes, waiting for a care package from my Mother.

Not that I'm not grateful.

I'm grateful for the food, no question about that.

But.

***

The thing to do is to make the appointment, and then turn off the phone. If they don't show up within ten minutes, fire up the car and go home...

Screw that.

Fact is, I resent it like hell. That’s because I’m sitting out in front of the place now.

I’ve got to shit, I haven’t had anything to eat all fucking day, and somehow, now I’m at your beck and call. I can always come back, right? You want me to cruise around town for an hour, burning up my precious gas and maybe, just maybe, you'll be done dropping off the dog at the parlour and checking out the latest in vinyl wallcoverings at the big-box builder's supply by then.

Fuck.

Ten minutes is a long time.

I’ve had a few cell-phones, trust me on that one.

Nice as they are, I am absolutely not in a hurry to run out and get one.

And yet the fact is, I probably do need one.

End

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