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Broke Wife, Big City
I forgot my
phone
By Aprill Brandon
So here I am. Sitting at my usual place in the coffeeshop down the
street. Ready to write my regular newspaper column. Laptop open, blank
page staring back at me, cursor mocking me with its empty blinking.
Tall mocha on my left. And my phone in its usual spot on the righ…
Except it’s not there. Not today. I check then double-check my bag. My
pockets. My coat pockets.
Which is when the image of my dead phone being put on the charger right
before I left the house springs into my mind’s eye.
I’m not panicking. It’s not like I’m one of those people who can’t
function in the real world anymore without it. In fact, this is
actually a good thing. A great thing. No distractions. No easy way out.
Maybe I’ll even hit a deadline for once.
Ah. Except my notes for this week’s column are in my phone. OK. No
worries. Still not panicking. I’ll just find a new topic. What was that
thing I read earlier this week? That I thought would make a funny
subject? Something about...hang on, I’ll just look it up. Where’s my…
Riiiiight. Not a problem though. I’ll just connect my laptop to the
wifi here and look it up. Like our ancient ancestors had to. I mean,
it’s free.
And unsecured.
And slow.
So slow.
Like 1993 dial-up slow.
Eh, not worth it. Maybe if I just distract myself for a bit I’ll
remember what it was I wanted to write this week. Isn’t that what they
say to do when you can’t remember something? Do something else?
Mindlessly scroll through Facebook or something. Twitter is always good
for generating topics too…
Aaaand what the hell is wrong with me? Why can’t I remember I don’t
have my phone? I. Don’t. Have. My. Phone.
Just start writing. I’ve been writing for decades. It should be like
breathing at this point. Just me and the written word. Mano y mano. Is
that how the saying goes? Or how it’s spelled? Remember to look that
up. I should text myself to look that up. Oh, also that we’re out of
coffee. I wonder how Ryan is holding up with the kids? The little one
was in such a bad mood when I left. My hand instinctively reaches over
and...oh yeah.
Seriously. What’s wrong with me?! I always made fun of those people who
made big pronouncements on social media about how they’re
“disconnecting for awhile” and taking a “tech vacation” but maybe
there’s something to the whole untethering yourself from the Internet.
I’m so sweaty. Why am I so sweaty? My thumbs feel twitchy.
Still not panicking. It’s just a phone. A tool. A glorified, amazingly
lightweight, brick. Let’s do some people watching. I kind of forgot
that people had actual faces. Ah, and everyone is looking at their
phones. Hey, that guy kind of looks like that guy I knew in college. Is
it that dude from college? No, no. Looks like him though. I wonder what
he’s been doing with his life. I should look him up...sigh...when I
actually have my phone.
Holy crap, I’m so bored.
A series of familiar dings go off near me. That’s probably Ryan texting
me back about the kids. Where did I put my...damn it!
It’s the phone of the lady behind me.
Damn it. Damn it. DAMN IT.
Not panicking. NOT PANICKING.
I do not need my stupid phone to survive in this world! You hear me!? I
am doing JUST FINE.
Oh god...
NO ONE CAN GET AHOLD OF ME. I AM ALL ALONE IN THIS WORLD. EVERYONE I
KNOW AND LOVE IS PROBABLY DEAD BECAUSE I WASN’T THERE TO ANSWER MY
PHONE. AND I WILL PROBABLY BE MURDERED ON MY WAY HOME AND NO ONE WILL
EVER KNOW BECAUSE THEY CAN’T IDENTIFY MY BODY BECAUSE I DON’T HAVE MY
PHONE.
I’m just going to walk home. This has been a wasted and highly
unproductive afternoon.
I know what will cheer me up. I’ll talk to my cousin on the way. Been
meaning to call her back…
GAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH....
Can’t get enough of Aprill? Can’t wait until next week?
Check out her website at http://aprillbrandon.com/
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