…and you’re not gonna reach my telephone

It all started almost five years ago when I was gearing up to move to Tulsa for a 9-month teaching gig. I traded in my gigantic 1990’s mobile phone for a ridiculously expensive upgrade to a new super sexy iPhone, which for some reason I named Matilda. I carried Matilda around in the box she came in for several days, much to the amusement of a certain relative (COUGH*Elitest Jerk*COUGH), who teased me so mercilessly about it that I finally let Matilda out into the cruel, tamasic world. Less than a week later – my first weekend in Tulsa actually – I dropped poor Matilda on the concrete floor of Bill & Ruth’s Subs.  Her screen shattered upon impact. Fearing a total meltdown, The Devil rushed us to the nearest Apple Store where a Genius told me that he was very sorry, but there was absolutely nothing he could do to save her.  I would have to buy a new one. I stood stone still in complete shock blinking at him.

BLINK-BLINK.  BLINK-BLINK.

Lip twitch.

BLINK-BLINK. BLINK-BLINK.

Something in my near catatonic expression must have caused him to reconsider this position because he furtively took my phone, disappeared behind a door into the mysterious Genius Lair, and then promptly returned with a pristinely-screened Matilda (or at least a reasonable facsimile).  Thereafter, Matilda was dropped all over the place, including one unfortunate time into the toilet.  Despite all this, she managed to survive the years intact and working like a champ.

That is until last week.

Last week I was walking to my car while doing at least 5 other things simultaneously. I’m sure I was heading off to go do something that was terribly important since…ya know…I’m such a busy person with so many important things to do. If I recall correctly, my Indentured Servant was doing one of her running commentary comedic routines that accompany these outings.  Nilla Bean (aka Donkey), who has definitely left behind the so-fluffy-I-could-die phase of her puppyhood for the lanky, moose-like ‘tween phase, was prancing around, all tongue and tail, like a complete maniac.  Add to this chaotic scene, the new neighbor’s oversized work truck, which is backed into a parking space causing the long metal rods in the truck’s bed to extend out dangerously beyond the tailgate to threaten the people of the sidewalk.

I have no idea how it happened, but quite suddenly Matilda went flying out of my hand and crashed face first onto the sidewalk. I was mid-step when this happened and somehow the toe of my sandal connected with her right at the moment of impact with the ground.  Thus sending poor Matilda skidding across the sidewalk like hockey puck.  With my history of falling, it’s nothing short of a miracle that I managed to stay upright and unharmed.  Matilda didn’t fare as well.  Her face was again shattered.

I found a place that does screen repairs. The two fellas in the shop seemed right out of Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure. The “Bill” of the pair opened up the phone and asked me when I got the phone wet because it was all corroded inside.  He was surprised it even worked and he couldn’t guarantee that it would continue to after he put a new screen on.

It turned out that Matilda worked just fine once she was patched up.  But then the day before yesterday she fell out of bed and bumped her head. And now she doesn’t work anymore. Well, her screen works, so I can see when people call or text but the screen won’t swipe so I can’t get in to actually read my texts or hear voicemail or call out.

Please understand that nobody ever calls me.  Except the Devil. And Senior Citizen Church Lady. Or at least they didn’t until yesterday when people started blowin’ up my phone with calls and texts.  I’ve had more calls and texts the past two days than I have in the previous 2 years.

And that’s the end of the story.  Long story short: I’m not ignoring calls/texts.  My phone is just broke!  You may email me or reach me on the Devil’s line.

I leave you with a video of the song the Indentured Servant and I listened to to commemorate the demise of Matilda along with select snippets of her philosophical musings of the lyrics.

Why don’t they just silence the mofo?

…..or you know…maybe put it on vibrate?

‘Cause that’s what I would do…

….This is a disaster??? Seriously?!

….This song is clearly not meant to be thought about.

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