Local Man Reaches Out, Touches Self

I cancelled my cell phone service because of a hypochondriac fear of brain tumors, and I thought I was wasting too much time talking on it. Now I spend a lot of time caressing myself.

The other day I was in a hurry to meet my wife. I was thinking I needed to get a hold of her to tell her I would be late, when I suddenly found myself stopped in busy pedestrian traffic, alternately patting my buttocks and pawing my thighs. That’s what I do now. Whenever I’m tardy, I madly grope my pants. Sometimes I even run my hands across my chest. I’m thinking it might help to reduce stress of not having a cell phone.

“I’ve got to have a cell phone somewhere,” my brain says to my body. But I don’t. I only have concerned mothers pulling their children closer as they pass the lonely man intensely frisking his nethers.

I’ve also experienced phantom vibrations. I think I feel a call coming in, excuse myself from a conversation, and end up in front of bewildered onlookers wondering what I’ll eventually find in my pocket.

How did we even live in 1995? Were there pay phones in the bread aisle? Before ditching my mobile, I’d leave our house for the store only to call my wife and ask what we needed. Now I have to find someone who looks somewhat healthy and take inconspicuous glances at their grocery cart. I typically don’t have to be too coy as often they’re busy on the phone.

I’ve also found that a lack of a phone on my person means I’m going to have start planning. There are the shopping lists, and I never realized how accustomed I’d become to running late. With a phone, tardiness didn’t matter as long as I gave the waiting party a quick call. And that’s what people always say, “I’m not mad you’re late, I just wish you would have called.” The silver lining here is that I’ve been surprising a lot of old friends with quick stops to use their phone. Of course now they’re saying, “Come by anytime, just make sure to call.” So I’ll have to create a network of people who from home I can call to say I’ll be by to use their phone to call the people waiting for me to call.

So going cell-less won’t be too awful, as long as when you see some guy tugging at his jeans in the street, you let him in to use your phone.

My Cell Phone Break Up

I’ve canceled my cell phone service. For years I thought it impossible, but now I’m on the other side of my lengthy conversation with Keri, and am finding life to be rather pleasant. Keri, by the way, is an employee at T-Mobile. When I called to cancel, a rather bored sounding customer service guy said, “You want to end your relationship with us? Let me put you through to Keri.” First of all, I didn’t even know I was in a relationship, and secondly, it’s not fair to bring up intimacy and then send me to Keri, a perky gal who I’m guessing puts a big heart-shaped dot over her “I”.

Immediately, the playful customer service Ninja was concerned about “us” and wondered how it could be that I would want to break it off. She worked her verbal pole dance and I felt like I was selfishly smashing the heart of a sexy, happy-go-lucky gal who only required about 1000 minutes a month. It took me a half an hour to convince her I was convinced, but by then I wasn't so sure. With my phone records on the screen in front of her, she gushed at how popular I must be and wondered aloud how someone like her would ever be able to get a hold of me. By this time my wife, Sarah, hearing me struggle, sat down to watch the show. She’d doubted I had the strength to let go of my cellular woobie.

I’d wanted to get rid of it because I’d been wasting too much time on it, and because an increasing amount of neurosurgeons warning of brain tumors. Sure, I could use my hands-free device, but I’ve never been more dangerous driving than when I’m trying to untangle it from the parking brake. Also, I often found myself mindlessly thumbing through my directory looking for someone to call. Often I’d reach Lori2 when I’d meant to dial LoriDenver, and it’s just wrong asking someone who can’t have kids how their son is doing. To Keri, none of my reasons were good enough to leave her, so I made up a story about getting a new job with a new phone. She knew I was lying, but breakups aren’t supposed to be pretty. Although I do have ninety days to change my mind, and if I’m too forlorn, I can always try and cancel my cable.

…to be continued…