So my phone died again. If anyone should ever think that I should ever have any responsibility in this world over anything - think again. I can’t even keep a phone alive. So Mr. Phone number 17 or whatever decided that, yes he will work, but no, he will not show anything on his screen. Pssh whatever. I restart , reboot, whatever, take battery out, take computer chippy out, curse both, pet both, pray to both, etc. Nothing works. My phone just glows an angelic white. Like the halo that left me in college.
So I just lost my job, oh and that is another discussion in and of itself (see my next blog entry). I can’t really be affording new phones at this point. Or new anything, be it clothes, shoes, teeth or fruit. I know where my ATT phone repair store is. This is different (you’re welcome in advance) than my ATT phone retail store. So I leave for there around 4pm because naturally I was yelling at my phone until 6am. To me, this was justified. And still is. To my neighbors, not so much.
Now this store is right near the Queens mall. Where everyone and their mother go at around 4:30. I’m really not a crowds person. I’m not a rain person. I’m not really a people person. But it’s crowded and raining and the masses are dumb. Dumber than usual and trying to balance their falafel, umbrellas, bags and kids while hailing the bus and simultaneously pissing me off. Wow talk about multi-tasking. Luckily my dear mother has taught me “the look” where people just get out of the way and in slow motion cover their children’s eyes for fear of scarring them for life. It’s like Chariots of Fire meets Gladiator meets One Flew Over the Sarah’s Nest.
You’ve really got to be kidding me with these phones though. Nothing works, nothing ever works. And I didn’t even throw this one. Well, I did actually, at the window, but only after it stopped working. I thought that this must be some kind of joke that God is playing and somewhere someone is having a hell of a time with this and if this is some kind of karma, I am really, really sorry….. Ha--I had a weird image in my head of some kind of Fantasia-type movie where instead of dancing hippos there were floating phone booths taunting me with their bat wings and their snake-like viper phone cord tongues. Yes I will let you know what medication(s) they put me on.
So anyway, I arrive at ATT repair superworld. There are a couple people there. No wait- there are 12 people there. All ahead of me. I go to the counter, say “phone went boom”, scrawl some sort of Sanskrit shit into the sign-in chart and sit down. And it’s hot. It’s really friggin baking hot. And then mom-of-the -year and her two darling spawns enter. They decide to scream. Loud. And play
“let’s jump off the chairs and stomp on Sarah‘s foots” for 20 minutes while shrieking. Mom’s too busy talking to her dealer or some sh*t so she doesn’t even notice. My throat’s starting to hurt from growling and it’s getting even warmer. Add to this and they have a shift change where 2 people leave….. And no one replaces them. So it’s almost 40 minutes later. Consuela Madre or whatever is still oblivious that her chiquitas are now tearing up the magazines and making confetti as I check to make sure I have taken my daily dose of oral contraceptives.
So crew member “Jeff” finally calls me up. Finally!!!! I skip up to the counter with a goofy smile on my face and my eyes probably looking like Cookie Monster’s after rolling them for the last half hour while rubbing my face in my hands and slamming my head in to my Daily News.
As I’ve said (claimed) before, I am relatively intelligent. I cannot understand phone stuff though. Beep this, boop that, hell if I care. I only want text and calls and the option of getting online in case of emergencies (weather, directions, sports scores, bail bondsmen, etc). People have all this shit with their phones- games, books, wills, divorce papers, fish food recipes, coat measurements, etc. My life seriously, is not that important nor that complicated. I’m fine with simple phone, basic computer, non-existent tv and peace of mind. I lack one of the four--- guess which one. Anyway, Jeff is talking a mile a minute like that guy with the moustache who was on Sesame Street a few times- you remember him right? I’m just like “SLOW DOWN”. He talks slower. But he might as well been talking in Chinese or something anyway. Gigabeeps this, lollyboops this, magamigamikees that” ok Jeff-a-byte-me, do you know who you’re talking to??????? Sarah is not only anti-technology, but anti-learning-about-technology because I’m impatient, stubborn and poor. Sure tell me about your precious I-phone. I won’t understand it and will most likely break it -- yours not mine. I’m also filled with rage, Jeff.
Anyway, Jeff tells me to get a Go Phone. I at first think he’s telling me to go away (typical…stupid men) and I start to roll my cuffs up. Oh! A Go Phone! - meaning a cheap-ass phone where you refill minutes but you can put my phone’s shiny metal piece into the new one and it works. That’s hott. So Go Phone becomes new phone. Yay! That works, $30 versus buying a whole new one.
So all is well and good with Mr. Phoneleavemealonenow. Sarah gets home and is ready to enjoy her anti technology by stealing her neighbors internet and watching pirated TV streams online. But then, the calls start…..
But these calls are on Sarah’s home phone….. Now only about 3 people have my home phone number. But apparently, this has now changed. On Monday, 10 calls, asking if I’m Jamaica high school. I answer politely that no, I am not. Annoyed, but still my general pleasant self (read:I didn’t threaten homicide). Later-- a call from an “interpreter”…. I tell the lady I don’t speak any other languages other than the Sanskrit I wrote on the sign-in sheet and the Chinese that Jeff was babbling in. She says “there is a call from a deaf person”…. Um ok. I don’t know any deaf people… So deaf lady says my number showed up on her caller ID.. Wait, what? I apologize for any inconvenience and say I haven’t been home and haven’t made any calls whatsoever from the home phone all day…. So, apparently, Sarah’s phone is now making phantom calls out as well as getting wrong calls in.
Great. Just great. I was away during the weekend. Maybe some telephone gnome came in and decided to mess with my phones. Or just mess with me, which would be a lot easier in general than getting involved with my electronic equipment. Hell I freak out when I can’t find my keys. I actually realized I had left them in the door earlier, for an entire afternoon. Thankfully my neighbors consists of drunks, cowards and the elderly so no one tried to come in or steal my stuff. Rob me, hell if I care. No one can resist my stack of unread Redbook magazines, array of dollar store flipflops and collection of Disney princess mugs.
Anyway, the next day the fun continues. Now this is the entire day. Apparently Jamaica high school has a night session. Hurrah for the NYC public school system. Now some people say “sorry, my bad” and hang up. Some people don’t believe me…. And they mess with me. Now--Sarah doesn’t like being messed with. When my boss called me stupid, I complained to HR. When my high school boyfriend dumped me, I slashed his tires (Mom, don’t read this. Dad, stop laughing). I’m sure you know other ways that show that Sarah doesn’t like to be messed with, which is why I have disabled comments on this post.
But seriously when I say “no this isn’t Jamaica high school” and you go “what the f*** you talking about b****”, you make it very difficult for me not to do something to add to my police record. I was seriously considering just saying “yeah the school bus crashed” or “your kid has been expelled” but I haven’t done the legal research on the ramifications of said statements yet, mostly because my stolen internet time is limited and I really want to watch Jeopardy. Anyway, I get yet another call from some guy claiming that my number has shown up on his caller ID. I don’t get this, Verizon says everything is hunky-dory (read:they don’t want to send a tech), but it’s getting on my friggin nerves. Not only do I not want to annoy other people when I don’t want to (which is most of the time, but not all of the time), but I don’t need to keep getting calls all hours of the night!!!!! So I’m trying to track the times of the calls and am getting Verizon to deal with me tomorrow.. Or at least change my number for free after I make 7 of their reps quit.
On a separate note- I apparently am not the only one have phone trouble recently. My lovely parents have a phone. In North Dakota. I call my parents frequently and was going to call them one Thursday night before their trip on Friday to Bismarck. Cool, right? So their phone is cut-off. Hmmm… It’s cut-off for 5 hours… Now I can blame my parents for a lot of things (per my therapist), but I always know they pay their bills. I call my cousin - ask if any storms have happened to disrupt phone lines or service. Nope! Mom’s cell isn’t on, Dad’s SatPhone isn’t on. No emails, no Facebook message, nothing. Now I’m freaking out.
To give you some background- my parents had previously been held in a Turkish prison ----- or so I thought. Back in like 2003 I thought they were arriving home on the 22nd of August (circa) and it was actually the 23rd. So I’m in DC and away from home and I’m paranoid that their trip from Turkey didn’t go as planned due to my Dad making some stuffed animal bomb joke (he actually did this before) or Mom beating Dad up for thinking about making such a joke.. So I made a subtle (hysteric), concerned (paranoid) and serious (cuckoo for cocoa puffs) phone call and subsequent voicemail hoping they were ok and not arrested and in some Turkish prison. Now they were fine. I just got the dates wrong. And, apparently, they found this absolutely hilarious. I still hear about it today. I think they flip a coin over who gets to tease Sarah about the Turkish prison this week. I also think they turned that voicemail into a ringtone…
So anyway, I’m anxious (looney tunes) again and scared that some lone grifter, weird migrant oil worker or one of my random relatives have stuffed them into the freezer, cut the phone lines and is now playing air hockey with some invisible friend (or one of my other relatives…or both).
So Sarah calls the sheriff. Now you can think it’s jingle bells, but I’m in NYC, they’re in North Dakota. It’s not like they’re half an hour away. It takes me a half hour to get to the airport, and that’s only if I get the one cab driver that WON’T argue with me over the rate to LaGuardia. (it’s $22, no more, no less). But I digress. So the sheriff knows of my parents anyway (hooray for towns of 1,400... There are that many people living in my building).. And sends a deputy over at like 2 am to bang on the door. No answer. Now being where they are, no one is just going to knock once and leave. Especially with the rage the deputy must have over Pastor Rob’s “unique” big city offspring kicking him off desk duty to drive 20 minutes outside of town at 2 in the morning. But they don’t answer. So sheriff lady calls me back and say “no luck!”. Ok I do have enough control over my wits (Tylenol PM) to not have them go back and knock down the door, so I ask them to just try again in the morning.
So they do and find my parents there, healthy as can be, setting up their new plasma TVs.. Oh this is just great. Now I knew that at one time or another I’d be acquainted with the Watford City Sheriff’s Department, but I seriously thought it’d be in another capacity. Yeah---so did you!!! Well if someone in my family had to be labeled the town mental case, I’m glad it was me. Merry Christmas. At least I’m across the country. And now I've got two geographical regions under my belt! ...Don’t ask.
So I finally reach my parents the next day, after their field trip to Bismarck. Again, I think these weird people found it absolutely hilarious. My father has also discovered YouTube so don’t be surprised at the Sarah-Li’l Wayne-Rihanna remix of “Turk-turk-turk-turk Turkish prison”.
Thanks Dad. Stop laughing.
