Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Painter vs Phone. Phone loses.

We live in a cell phone nation. We're not big on electronics, though we did have a cell phone back in the day when they were laughably huge, got rid of it for several years, and got one for each of us a few years ago. We don't have IPods, and I can barely work the DVD or VCR remote. No Palm Pilot or Blackberry. Just cell phones and a computer. That is the total of our electronic milieu.

I had to replace hubby's first phone after he ran over it with his paint van. Yep -- he ran it over and killed it dead. That was #1, not counting the one he had already dropped in a gallon of paint. That was his mulligan.

When I ordered him a new phone, they had a great deal on camera phones, so, what the heck, I got two: his and hers. I loved that little phone, cause I could read the news whilst waiting for ds to get out of Algebra, or take pics at Little League games. That phone was fun -- till I had surgery. Hubby (who is also a nurse, btw), was waiting for me in my room, tucked me into bed, then decided that nature called. Next thing I knew, I heard him yell, and the sound of water splashing.

Yep, nature called, and he dropped MY phone, which he was holding while I was under anesthesia, straight into the toilet. Comes and puts it on my table, like I will ever touch it again. That was #2 (no pun intended, trust me).

I ordered a cheapo replacement phone for myself and went on with life, till we got ready to go to Vegas. First trip we'd taking without the kids in a while, so I had Xanax ready. (I don't fly well.) Little did I know how I was gonna need it.

I had to drop my car at the shop to be repaired. Hubby was a few minutes late picking me up, and when he arrives, he informs me that he dropped his camera phone into his newly perked Starbucks when he was getting ready to leave the house, and it is now dead.

That's #3.

He informs me that he needs a phone in order to run his business, and can I please order him one asap, so I get on the horn to order it while we are on our way home from the shop. Right in the middle of the order, some silly soccer mom pulls out in front of him and crashes into our van. The poor T-Mobile guy heard the whole family yell, "oh, we just had a car accident," I say. I'm so used to this nuttiness happening to us, that I didn't even miss a beat. "Is everyone ok? Do you need to hang up," he says. I tell him to hang on, do a quick triage on the little family, each of whom is comparing how THEY shouted when it happened, and go right back to the order -- he had NO idea what it took to get through the menu to a real live person, and I was NOT going to hang up on that call.

How do you think our odds in Vegas looked, at that point? Turned out, hubby didn't win one thin dime, and got food poisoning, to boot. And then complained that he didn't get a camera phone; just a cheapie one that will just make a call. Cause they haven't invented a phone yet that will survive a painter.

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