I lost Nigel... or rather; he was taken
away from me. (Speaking of taking, Takers- The Movie makes stealing seem like
such a worthy profession! Especially when the guy with a British accent says:
“We’re Takers, gentlemen. That’s what we do for a living... We take.”)
Unfortunately, Nigel’s Taker was not some sexy, black man with a British
accent... that would have made it better somewhat. He was taken by a
pale-faced, pregnant woman with shaved eyebrows that had been drawn back on. I
can’t even remember her face... just the eyebrows.
Nigel is was my phone. Take a moment
to roll your eyes and tsk-tsk at the fact that I named my phone while ignoring
the more appalling facts of life like the fact that some people name their
children ‘Bruno’ and ‘Rufus’ yet it’s pretty clear that those are names sorely
reserved for dogs. He (Nigel) was a Samsung Galaxy Mini and though according to
his manufacturers, who claim the SIII is the phone designed for humans, he
wasn’t fit for human use; I believe that he would have suited a primate just
fine. I wish I could say that the moment I got Nigel I felt as if he was The
Phone...but I didn’t. He was such a problem child phone. He’d belonged
to my dad for a while and I just couldn’t customize that masculinity out of
him. But I loved him.
Now that he’s been taken there’s really
very little that I can do. The pale-faced woman will probably pawn him off at
below market-value. (I hate to think that he’ll be stuck in the hands of
someone who shaves off their eyebrows only to draw them back on!) His new owner
will probably defile him with bad music and delete all the apps that made him
Nigel. In no time his screen will be scratched and cracked making him just
another shit phone. He will think I let him get taken because he was never my
idea of The Phone... because I always wanted an SIII whose screen wouldn’t go
off granted that I was looking at it...whose screen had a higher definition and
would never hang on me. Yes, I want an SIII for all the above reasons but I
would have seen to it that he got a worthy owner if I had ever disposed of him.
I suppose a logical person would say that
this is a lesson to me not to get too attached to inanimate objects, like my jeans... but all I can think about is the fact that I have had break-ups that
felt less tragic...and that in itself is more tragic.
I wish I could sit and mourn my loss for
long but Nigel needs to be replaced ASAP. Seeing as no one will be benevolent
enough to buy me a ‘phone designed for humans’ I’ll just hope that whatever I
get is at least fit for a mammal’s use. Probably a sturdy Nokia, with street
smarts. Something commonplace and Kenyan. I’ll even name him something as
Kenyan as Brayo, Deno, Marto or Kevo (Voke?).
In totally unrelated news, zombies are
highly underrated. They are très cool yet girls choose to drool over vampires. Vampires suck,
zombies rule...
...or (Voke?).That bit cracked me.I don't know why, but the idea of chicks calling out names we guys give each other for slang identity just comes out funny..a case of you sneaking into male mischief and bravado. But please be easy on the pregnant woman who is now the owner(i somehow question your accusations..proof). But i fear she may name him Bruno(or Rufus),your adorable Nigel,No? haha
ReplyDelete