Friday, November 21, 2008
I used to make prank phone calls. Way back in the day, there was an actual phone number we could dial, and anyone whose phone number started with 761 would be tied into an open line where we could listen to whatever conversation was going on their phone calls without them knowing about it. It was illegal, and my brother had obtained the number from one of his friends whose dad worked for the phone company. While it wasn't legal, it was fun, at least for awhile, and back in the day....that was what counted the most.
So there we were, listening to the lives of others, and it occurred to us just how boring other people's lives really are, unless they are scandalously breaking the law, as we were doing by listening in on their phone calls.
Comes the cell phone, and it can be turned on by secret government agents who will listen to all the wretched flotsam of a life spent watching the Game Show Network, and all the phone calls made to her mother about the latest repeat episode of Full House, and what do you get for all your science, technology and tax money? Bored agents, that's what.
My brother now has a cell phone which will read out his text messages, with either a manly computerized monotone voice, or a female computerized monotone voice. He chose the female voice and gave her the happy fun name of "Borg Queen". He constantly sends the Hubster text messages, and my husband, no keyboard whiz he, usually responds with one or two word responses.
Well! The Borg Queen doesn't like to recite mere, one word answers, so saith Brother, and demands the Hubster to send the most vile, badly spelled invective he can cram into a hand held electronic messaging device, FORTHWITH! And Hubster, always wanting to oblige the Borg Queen, does as asked, and the Borg Queen, totalitarian, but not interested in exactitudes, dutifully recites them without emotion back to her Dark Lord...My Brother.
Moi, I am just getting used to doing the whole text thingy, and last night, my phone went into orgasmic vibrations alerting me to an incoming text message. I looked at the number and, not recognizing it, proceeded to read the message:
Unbeknownst to me number: hey random question. last thursday when you and me and greg went for breakfast, was the other guy named Ben?
I wracked and wracked my increasingly forgetful mind to see if I'd gone out to breakfast with anyone who might have been named Greg or Ben and someone else, and not remembering, I played it safe and wrote back:
Me: I was too drunk to remember.
Then, to be on the even safer side, I sent another text to inquire about the following horrific (if true) possibility:
Me: I didn't throw up on the waitress, did I?
After a few moments Unbeknownst wrote back:
Unbeknownst: Wrong number?
Me: Yes, but thank you for giving me a really good reason to smile.
Unbeknownst: anytime. ha.
A little bit later, my cell phone once again starts to vibrate with another text message. This time it is from the irksome middle child:
Mary: remind me to gather up canned goods when i get home for english class tomorrow cause i'll forget if i don't ask ya now.
Me: Why do you need canned goods?
Mary: Cause it's extra points for english if I bring some in. And i'd like some of those points.
Me: Will it bring your grade up from an F to an F+?
Mary: Hahahaha. Not funny.
The only thing I can think of in response to that is this: