Hi. My name is Sarah and I'm a perfume-aholic. Seriously, I'm pretty obsessed.
A few years ago I used to keep a blog on Myspace that I loved and about seven people regularly read. I've had a crazy couple years since then but now that things are sort of calming down, I've found myself missing it. So, I'm giving this a try.
I set up my Google account thing about a week ago and every day since then I've contemplated actually starting up this blog, but never got around to it. However, I knew I had to start it today because something crazy happened, and I feel the need to document all of the insane events as they unfold. Are you ready?
My dad got a new phone. A TOUCH SCREEN.
My dad has had the same cell phone for about five years, a basic flip phone with no camera, no internet capabilities, and no distinguishing marks or features save for his Led Zeppelin "Black Dog" ring tone and the stained, beat up, peeling hand-printed sticker lable hastily slapped on the back reading his cell phone number, which he didn't bother to memorize at the time. Whenever people asked for his number, he would dig the cell phone out of his belt holster and read the number to them.
In the past few years, my dad has all but threatened death on those who sent him text messages but a few days ago circumstances arose so that he actually had the desire to learn how to read and send texts. Technically, his cell phone was perfectly capable of doing this but he was intimidated by his tiny, worn numeric keypad and daunted by the idea of learning to text on it so he decided to upgrade to a phone with a full alphabet keypad. I am honestly quite pleased with his decision because as perturbed as he was to learn, I was that much more worried about having to teach him. He has famously sent one text in his life- "No"- about eight years ago.
So, yesterday he went to our local Radio Shack with my sister and they both picked out new phones. She badly needed a new one because hers was old and loved and, well, had no volume. The phone she chose was not in stock but had been ordered and it came in today so instead of taking his and coming back for hers, he decided to pick both up today.
I am pumped because I have the whole week off school due to Thanksgiving and today my dad gave me instructions:
- clean the litterboxes
- clean up downstairs
- come in to work at two
I actually did manage to do the last item on the list.
At our family owned ACE store, I have several duties. I print bin tags when necessary, enter Stihl registrations online, update rental service lists on the computer, do some ordering, and any other small jobs that need to be done. To answer your question, yes, it is every bit as fun and exciting as it sounds.
Despite the mundane nature of my tasks at the store, however, I like going there. There's always stuff going on and people to see. As an employee, I park in the back and enter through the Shop in the back. Since it's mid-November and a little chilly outside, the big garage door was closed today and I entered through the side door. When you first walk into the shop, you're hit with a pungent wall of gasoline and oil and you're bombarded with classic-rock playing in the background and voices and laughter and shouts from the mechanics working there and the customers/friends who ignore the "Keep Out" signs slapped on all of the doors. I know to newcomers this whole atmosphere can be sort of overwhelming but I love it.
The shop is pretty big but is full of work benches and tools and equipment. In the back corner near the shop restroom is a cat bed and two small tubs with cat crunchers and water. These belong to the shop cat, Lucky, a small black feline with a bobbed tail and a beat up leather collar with one spike remaining in it. Lucky sleeps in the shop in the winter and in the summer comes and goes through the open doors as she pleases. All the shop guys adore her and she is very sweet and friendly, despite a hand-made sign one of the guys made last year reading: "BEWARE: ATTACK CAT!"
Today when I entered the shop she was sitting on a greasy, duct-taped stool, observing the activity around her with disinterest. I walked over to her and scratched her ears and petted her, getting grime all over my hands. Her black coat hides the filth quite nicely.
"Jeez, Luck," said Kyle (a mechanic), "Could you be any more aggressive?"
In response, she hopped up on David's shoulders and sat there, a pirate cat. Interestingly, she passed this and other traits onto her two now grown kittens that live here with me and my dad. Betty got her appearance, size and pirate-cat stance, while Bob got her bobbed tail. Neither got her black coloring- my dad calls them, "The Greys."
At this, I left them and went off to work. I sat at my dad's desk behind the parts counter and did computer work, observing the comings and goings of rental employees and listening to customers and the phone ringing off and on. After an hour or so, my dad announced with flair that it was time to pick up the new phones, so we hopped into Bucky (the black truck my dad drives) and went over to Radio Shack.
I have had several phones and each time I go to Radio Shack to get a new one, I forget how long the process is. There always seems to be other people waiting and then the guys working there take their time getting the new phone out of their supply closet and then they have to type stuff, take the new phones out, examine them, type some more, transfer the SIM cards, make small talk, type some more... You get the idea. Anyway, today was no different and as this process went on, I found myself drumming the counter with my fingers and watching a bizzare movie on one of the screens with no sound. It seemed to be the story of some weird alien hatchling terrorizing country folk.
Anyway! They finally got my dad's old SIM card into his new phone and I felt for the first time some pangs of panic as I observed his obscenely out-of-date cell phone lying dead on the counter. I found myself fretting, "This is it. That phone is now gone forever. What if Dad can't figure out his new phone? What if I can't teach him? What if Grandma gets a cell phone sometime? What the hell will I do then? What on earth is happening in the silenced movie on the big screen? Do all aliens hatch from eggs?"
Funnily, my dad actually got the same model phone as me, which I thought was great because I know how to use mine, and therefore should be able to teach him, right? Wrong. Once we were back at the ACE store and I had applied the screen protector, I handed him his phone and I dialed his number with my phone. It rang and for a brief second I swear I saw sheer terror flash in his eyes. I carefully instructed him how to push on the green icon and drag it across the shown path to the red icon. I watched as he gingerly held the phone in his hands and clumsily dragged his finger across the path.
"Did I do it? Did I do it?" he asked excitedly. The continuing ringing answered his question.
A few hours later we were dining at the Crystal. It was me, my dad, my sister, David, and a friend of my dad's. My sister was showing us her new phone and my dad excitedly pulled out his new phone from his pocket. I saw that the screen was lit up and some random screen was showing. I frowned.
"Dad. Have you been pushing buttons?"
"Absolutely not," he answered with a straight face.
My frown deepened. "Do you remember how to answer your phone?"
"Of course!"
I dialed. It rang. He didn't do it correctly.
I fear I have a long road ahead of me. However, after dinner my dad went with his friend for a while and I rushed home and got all of the chores I was supposed to do this morning done with my dad none the wiser.
I'm kind of tired now and I should go to bed. Tomorrow will be lesson two: Texting.
God help me.
Sarah
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