We headed to the cell phone outlet store at the mall because the phone I've hated for the year I've had it finally decided to do me a favor and die. This corresponded conveniently with an unplanned overnight layover in beautiful Cincinnati and/or northern Kentucky, who knows.
And then I couldn't find it. I may have subconsciously thrown it off a bridge or something.
There's no way to resolve a lost phone except to pay out the nose for a new one. Kind of like there's nothing to be done about your 2-year cell phone contract except curse the world and wonder how ALL cell phone companies manage to force you into long contracts. Not even gyms do that anymore. I might consider pay-as-I-go but of course, I'm in a contract right now.
We're in the cell phone store. I'm trying to figure out what phone to get based on the 2"x2" card next to the phone that does not bother to mention its memory, battery life, included features, or warranty. But the salesgirl sure can look that up on the computer for me and write it on a stickie note because, why not? It's only 2009 and we don't have the sort of technology that might allow us to generate a piece of paper from something on a computer screen.
As you might imagine this is all going terrifically quickly, especially the part where she tells me the battery life in minutes (quick kids, how many hours is 846 minutes?) and, like a fool, I ask her to translate that for me. She was going to have to check on that.
We haven't even gotten to the best part of this story yet, which is my new friends Chunk and Biff. I know you're dying to hear about these guys, because I sure as hell was. Chunk is a tall, fat red-headed guy with the ruddy face of a seasoned alcoholic and the voice of someone who's smoked for 40 years, despite probably not being older than 35. His sidekick Biff's job was to sit or stand 8 feet away from him so they could conduct their conversations at maximum volume.
Chunk and Biff were kicking off their exciting night of substance abuse by getting Chunk a new phone and transferring the sim card over. He really liked the old phone and replaced it with the exact same type of phone, even though the first one just died. Instead of entering his own information into the computer terminal, Biff's doing it for him, helpfully yelling for all the pertinent information like how he spells his last name and what his zip code is. Ah, friends.
Meanwhile they're trying to meet up with their other friend who is somewhere in Shoreline looking for a ride. Their stellar advice is that he get on "a bus" and they will "call him when it's time to get off." This dude was not entirely convinced but eventually bought into this plan anyway. He covered his bases by asking three times that they actually remember to call him. Did I mention Chunk put him on speakerphone for this? I guess he figured that he could double his chances at remembering to make that key call when it was time to get off the bus by having Biff hear this scintillating exchange, too.
Chunk and Biff may have done too much coke last night (which was Thursday, by the way) but they can't agree on that point. In fact, Biff doesn't believe it's even possible to do too much coke. HA HA! What a comedian, this guy! HA HA! Hack, cough, hack, Chunk wants to hurry this part up so he can get a smoke.
Did you know that Chunk and Biff's friend Ryan is going into rehab? You would have never thought Ryan was headed to rehab, man! Not that guy!
Chunk and Biff are basically our new best friends now because my husband and I know more about them from 15 minutes of conversation than we know about our own siblings. Whom we owe calls, on speakerphone, coming to a retail establishment near you soon.