Everyone I know is smitten with their smart phone, but I was stuck with an old, stupid phone and I was envious. I wanted a phone that displays boarding passes and turns on my lights. A phone that would tell me if my house was robbed and which door the thieves used to get in.
Because I am thrifty I decided to wait until my old phone died before I got a new one, but then it died while I was on a business trip in Detroit. I had a moment of pure panic at the thought of being phoneless during the imminent emergency I always expect when I am in Detroit but I did not want to buy a new, expensive smart phone on impulse so, inspired, I went to Walgreens and bought a $10 disposable cell phone. The clerk, assuming I was a drug dealer or a terrorist, helpfully suggested that I also purchase a pre-paid phone card so my calls could not be traced. Feeling as sinister as I have ever felt, I gave her some cash, and skulked out of the store, baseball cap rakishly low over my eyes.
Before I could use the phone I had to register a name and choose an area code for my new, untraceable phone number. It seemed that the people at the phone company were none too picky about veracity so I decided to reinvent myself. First I chose the name “DieTC” with a South Bronx area code, but I decided no respectable drug dealer would name himself after a diet soda. Next, since I am treated like a terrorist every time I go through airport security, I flirted with the name “Karzai” but gave it up when I could not find the area code for Afghanistan.
Finally, after much thought I registered the phone under the name of “Jackman, Hugh” because, well, look at my picture: we’re practically twins. Then I selected a Miami area code because Hugh might hang out in Coral Gables, but certainly not in Coral Ridge.
As it turns out, my new phone is outstanding. The transmission is crystal clear, it never drops a call and the battery lasts forever. It has a nifty feature that allows me to erase the entire call log with the push of a button, effectively eradicating my past.
The memory card from my old phone was not compatible with my new phone and since I realized that I don’t know anyone’s phone numbers, I could not call anyone. The few people whose numbers I know, like my mother or my partner, refused to answer their phones when they saw an unknown number on their caller ID, and of course they could not call me since they did not know my new number. Unable to make or take phone calls, I have never had so much free time in my life.
Better yet, no one could send me text messages. This was ideal: my younger brother watches Fox News all day and sends me right-wing texts about once a minute. My best friend, who is a schoolteacher, texts me every time an administrator says something stupid, so she texts about twice a minute. Now, free of them both I was able to take a nap, uninterrupted.
My disposable phone does not take pictures or manage my appointments but I love it nonetheless. As long as I keep buying those pre-paid phone cards it does exactly what I want it to do and if it dies, who cares? This may be the smartest phone in the world. I am smitten.