Call me, maybe

illustration of phone, lost in space

Lost in Space

If you ever thought of giving me a call, I’d do it soon.

I’ve had a modern day headache this week, trying to escape the dastardly clutches of one mobile provider, and switch to another. I’m confident this new company will be much better, and I’ll be free as a bird, flying on the airwaves of unfettered 4G.

But do my existing provider want to let me go? They do not (well, who would?).

It all started when I realised that half my income was still going to the mobile phone people even though my contract has recently finished. What? How dare they? Oh wait, here it is in black and white… ‘if you are idiot enough not to check the date of the end of the contract, we will say nothing, and we’ll take your money anyway.’

Ah, yes. Of course. So I called them up, asking to stop everything. I’m not very interested in these things, so I don’t know what I’m talking about. I got the technical terms muddled up and revealed myself to be the ultimate technology buffoon, and then started giggling, which didn’t especially help.

That conversation ended with me agreeing sheepishly to stay with them. I had to call back (please, God, I promise I’ll go to church and I’ll even try to enjoy it, just let me get someone else this time), and put on a posh voice and pretend to be an actual grown up.

All good. But then I realised what unlocking a phone involves – all of it petrifying, bringing with it PAC codes and factory resets and the risk of losing all those photos I took of the pussycats wearing bonnets.

Please, if you are good at these things, send me encouraging thoughts. And call me soon, maybe, before my phone number goes into the dark side. It might never come home to me.

*And yes, I did write this listening to Carly Rae Jepsen, and watching this video, it was only right.

 

Did you see the bit where they swipe right for Tom Hanks? In another life, I would too. He’s so cute, and he dances like me 🙂 🙂 🙂

 

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