Cel phones.
Cute little plastic or metal devices that attract us to them because they are so shiny and pretty and “cool.” They are the happy go lucky puppets being controlled by....
the EVIL cel phone companies.
(insert thunderclap)
Seriously, they are the evil five million fingers of Doctor whoever wicked witch of the Freddy Krueger BULLIES that take hold of your balls (if you have them) and pretty much OWN you. They own you. They have a contract on you. Through smoke and mirrors they convince you to sign your life away for two years (at least) and you pretty much can't do ANYTHING that strays from this contract without paying big chunks of money. The cel phone company is this enormous chomping monster eating your money. Yum, yum, YUM... chomp, chomp, chomp.
And THEN after you get your first phone they hypnotize you and parade you in front of really cool new phones on a bi-monthly if not weekly basis with beautiful full color gigantic ads with the happiest people you have ever seen in your life talking on their NEW extra even more so cooler phone that you can't have unless you pay much much more than what it says initially on the poster.
If. IF you break the contract it costs you. Jason and I were on a shared plan. He was the one who set it up initially so he was the authority on the account (authority my eye) and so HE was seduced by the iPhone and left our current company to go be with the good people of the iPhone. (Not actual name of company).
I was then left alone to fend for myself in this weird sort of middle ground where I wasn't the authority of anything involving this metalic shiny christmas light thing I carry around in my pocket and it constantly bothers me and needs my attention and especially when I am nowhere near it and it calls out beckoning me and I can't find it because I took it OUT of my pocket.
(God, do I LOVE a run on sentence!)
So now, I spent a lovely hour with a darling gal at the phone company attaining my so called “authority.” She actually talked like one of the robots. I found myself doing the same thing when giving her all my info. (Oddly, when I say my name, I always say, ‘that's Robert F Dorn... F as in Frank... when my actual middle name is Frederick.)
She is required now to inform me that she will be reading from a script when she goes through the process. Oh really? And here I thought you spoke so eloquently. So as she reads me this script I am so tempted to stop her and say, “ok... now, what is your intention when you are saying that line?” But I don't because the phone company has actually put a cork in my teretz style sense of humor. And we already know what that bitches intentions are... (insert second thunderclap)
So after ALL of that... all of the answers, the information given, all of the threats that I might have to start the contract ALL over because basically I never really had any kind of ownership of this account, it was all Jason's and he left us... left us cold for that slutty iPhone. Here I was with a Razr to take care of and I just might be kicked back to zero which means I would have to endure another two years before I would have any kind of clout.
Thankfully, that was not the case. I just took over the contract. So as of next year at this time I can actually consider buying another phone without having to give up the farm. So all is done, right? Right robot sounding lady?... who is probably sipping a diet coke in India as we go through this lengthy process...
She tells me that she has done all she can with me and now it is up to me to go to the cel phone dealer store and choose my plan and all that stuff. “You mean online?” I ask. “No to an actual store.”
Oh my god... she is telling me to actually go outside and go to a real store where there are real people who actually live in my country and will actually talk to me and look into my eyes and hold me if I cry suddenly and assure me that that whole “big brother is watching me” thing WAS and IS only a movie.
F%$#K I have to leave my house.