Dear Cell Phone,
I’ve been giving a lot of thought to our relationship lately and I’ve realized that I’m not getting as much satisfaction from you as I used to. It’s not you, of course, it’s me. I’ve changed.
You have a lot to offer a girl. Your case is hunky and my friends just love the way the fancy cover I bought for you looks. The butterflies on it definitely compliment your screen. Your beautiful blue screen and glow-in-the-dark buttons are the stuff of most girls’ dreams. The way you trill when someone is calling used to make my heart sing with joy.
Lately, though, I admit, I’ve been seeing other cellphones. Not seriously, of course. I respect you too much to look at them seriously. But I’ve seen them…with their slim cases that would fit in the palm of my hand…their smooth chrome finishes. Perhaps I’m too immature to appreciate your classic good looks and old-world charm. Maybe you need someone a little older than me.
I have been noticing, too, that I don’t get the wonderful reception from you that I used to get when I needed you:
“Laura? Are you there? As I was saying, Aunt Margaret is going to be 65 years old and…Oh! My gosh! I forgot to tell you the most important news! We are having a…..”
“What? Hello?… Hello!… Having a what!? A birthday party for Aunt Margaret? A Tupperware Party? A baby? Holy smokes! What?! For Pete’s sake!”
So you see, Cell Phone, your loyalty is something I have been questioning for the past few months. You tell me that you don’t treat me that way on purpose, but it happens too frequently for me to believe otherwise.
The cell phones that call to me are the ones that flip open and close at the flick of my hand like the communicators on Star Trek. I know it’s selfish to want a cell phone all to myself, but it feels like such a betrayal when I leave you alone in my purse for five minutes and all your buttons are exposed to the elements in there. You let them… touch you.
Yes, I know it’s not your fault that they feel the need to push your buttons. Heck, I felt that same need, but think about how I feel when one of my friends tells me that you called them while I was having a discussion with one of my children in a public bathroom!
“Don’t forget to lift the lid!”
“Um, but I have to go number 2.”
“Oh no, not again. It’s the third time today! What did you eat?”
“Wait a minute…No, I don’t have to go anymore!”
“Oh-my-GOD! That’s disgusting! Hurry up and flush, will you? I want to get out of here before anyone else comes in!”
Now, tell me the truth, Cell Phone. How would you feel if I betrayed you in that way? Please believe me when I say that I never minded your age as much as I minded your infidelity. I just can’t seem to get past that.
So, I guess what I’m saying is that I want to start thinking seriously about some other cell phones. Maybe one not so open to temptation. One that is loyal and sincere. One that treats me with more respect. Maybe my next cell phone will have a camera so it can take pictures of my family. You never did have a good rapport with my family.
What I need from you is your understanding and, if possible, your friendship. I don’t ever want you to feel like you can’t come to me when you need to talk to someone.
I suppose, however, if I just carry you around in my purse, you’ll find more than enough ways to talk to someone. I’m sure that it won’t take you long to find someone (or something) willing to push the buttons I used to push so lovingly. I just hope that whoever you eventually connect with, she’ll treat you with all the care and attention that I have all of these years.
Goodbye, my old friend. May your battery never need recharging. I’ll always think of you fondly.