The Dead Phone Chronicles

Day One

      The first day without a cellphone was a wondrous day. It seemed the whole world lay before me without any tethers to restrict my mind and body. I felt lighter. There was no simultaneous ringing/vibrating to interrupt a project or a movie. I was without the steady stream of faulty equipment messages. Broken gate arms. Thirsty friends. Inexplicable spam. Irate women. I was free. January 25th had become Independence Day.
      Yet there was a single twitch in the back my mind. I anticipated it. I knew I would have to think about looking for the phone in  my pocket that was no longer there. I knew I would have to think about not thinking about it. I fancy myself a spontaneous kind of guy. Sometimes I like to go out and have a drink or dinner with a friend. This became difficult. Eventually the addiction became apparent and I tried to ignore it. My right thigh would actually spasm slightly and I would reach into my pocket to answer an imaginary text message. It happened more than once but I didn't beat myself up about it. My new phone from corporate would be here soon and I wouldn't have this quiet time for much longer.


Day Four

      I can't exactly pinpoint the moment when the function of wireless freedom began to malfunction. I think it was around day 4. There were no casual dates in my immediate future. Zero appointments. I had planned a housewarming party but the internet sufficed enough to get my message across. The right front pocket of every pair jeans I owned seemed to feel loose and worn like an ancient turtle's vagina. A gallery of 'What if' situations began rear their ugly heads. What if I need to call 911 for some sort of rash? What if the people that I call my friends unsubscribed my Facebook feed long ago? What if I won the lottery?(They call you, right?) What if Christina Hendricks finally calls me back? God forbid that shit. I micro-panicked. 1 Sloppy Joe, 2 growlers, 3 whiskeys, and 4 shots of tequila later that fire had been quelled.


Days Five through Ten

      The following week had been a pathetic one. Since I couldn't answer any service calls, I sat before my laptop and kept my email and FB up at all times. I cleaned things around the shop with the grace of a dementia patient. Every 10 minutes I wandered back to my laptop to see what I was missing. When I got home, same thing. I cleaned the shit out of my apartment. I made the most elaborate dishes for dinner. I scoured every tumblr account. My thumbs thirsted for buttons so I played Skyrim. I did everything except for what I should have done. Projects sat abandoned. My Kindle, ignored. It was as if my creativity was saved to the sim card in the fucking phone! So I did what any crafty, young fellow such as myself would do. I tried to fix it. Turns out I needed special bit tools to get the goddamned thing opened fully. Do I go out and spend money for something I might not be able to fix? My company would surely want the phone back for insurance purposes. Fuck it. I used what I had and got it open. I'm not sure how much you know about cellphones so let me sum up the inner workings for you. Tiny computers that robots put together. I was defeated. No website offered any insight. No amount of electronic understanding could raise me from these depths. I put it back together and tried to charge it. Instead of waiting for a response, I drank my dinner and went to bed.

Two Hours Later

Two hours later I heard a baby crying in my living room. I got up to check it out. I completely forgotten that my ringtone for all service calls was a baby's wail. The service line was calling me! But I couldn't answer it!  None of the buttons worked. I couldn't even mute it. I waited until the line hung up and saw there were 32 missed calls and 30 text messages waiting for me. I tried my hardest to get those messages. I plugged the phone into my computer and downloaded the app for it. No luck. The phone would only charge its battery. But its network was still connected! Maybe, just maybe, I could get some kind of transcript from the provider that showed who has been trying to get a hold of me and what they were trying to convey! You know, like those cop TV shows? Meanwhile,  the service line baby cried over and over. I removed the battery.

The Next Day

      Not possible. Fuck.

Day Eleven through Fourteen

      My boss is pissed that he's the only one answering service calls and taking the weekend on-call shift. Corporate is making excuses about trying to figure out what happened with the ordering and delivery process. And now I'm starting to get accustomed to this lifestyle. I find myself more attentive on the road. When someone is speaking to me I can remember what they've said. I am using my brain and can no longer depend on instant information. If I'm lost, I ask for directions. Most people look at me suspiciously and I can see a thought flicker behind their eyes.
      'Dude, use your phone.'
I would if I could bro but how about a little human interaction? What does this say about us? About our future with convenience? Will our social security numbers add an extra digit to become our lifelong phone number? Will police officers ask to see our phones when pulled over for masturbating while speeding? With inventions like Facebook and Skype, is there really a need to spend a $1000 a year on this device? Maybe. Does it make me a better person now that I don't have one? Nope. Not by a long shot. I've taken to writing notes down on paper. I like Googling a destination and trying to memorize that shit. I like life without the frustration of a locked up device. But still. Those electronic tools are great. Louis CK said it best:
"The shittiest cellphone in the world is a miracle! Your life sucks around the phone!"

Day Fifteen 
Got an email today. My phone will be here tomorrow. It's an iPhone 4. Lucky me.