Saturday, April 08, 2006

Cell...Part 2

Matthew and I took an expedition back to the zombie infested halls of Ballston Common this morning.
Together, we were determined that we could defeat the Kiosk Queen. With renewed confidence, and a full nights rest behind me, I felt strong enough to face the task at hand.

I shoved through crowds of teenage cellular zombies with no fear at all. Matthew did the same. We came here with one take down the Kiosk Queen.
I also had a back-up plan. I still had my old Cell Phone from my Landscaping job. It still worked fine, just was not in service...a plan formed.
As we approached her on the fourth level of the video game...uh...mall, we saw the strangest thing that we may have ever seen...Standing at the Kiosk, chatting with the Kiosk Queen was a man of about 30, all dressed in gothness, with a live rooster in one arm. Yes, a live rooster. I wish I had my camera. I really am not even fucked up in the head enough to make this shit up. A man in goth, carrying a live rooster. Ballston Common truly is a strange place.
The goth dude carrying clucking cock walked away, and we were face to face with braids and eyebrows herself.
The Kiosk Queen seemed less than thrilled to see me again, but sizing up that there were 2 poofs present, as opposed to one, seemed to put her on her toes. She explained the reason that she couldn't give me a free phone to Matt, and the whole sordid mess. He was still confused, as was I.
My strength was depleting minute by minute as the Kiosk Queen pelted us with her "special attack".....which was rays of confusion.

I intervened with the back-up plan.
I was in no mood to share oxygen with this lady anymore.
I whipped out my old phone and cut to the chase. She said that I could just switch the sim card from my old phone and put it in this one. Problem solved.

My old and trusty friend, Mr. Nokia, who had been sitting and collecting dust in a drawer for this whole past year, came to my rescue. He had been sitting there, just aching to be charged and used as a great communicator the whole time,
as Nasty Mr. Samsung chewed at my face silently, and beeped with evil abandon. Finally Mr. Nokia is back in faithful service.
There is a lesson here. I should have stuck with Mr. Nokia. He never treated me particularly bad. He was very receptive..(always 4 bars at the very least). He had much better ringtones, that much was clear. But I left him behind in the drawer for...Mr. Samsung.

Mr. Samsung was a bright, shiny new object that perhaps was more sleek than Mr. Nokia (who was a bit boxy). Mr. Samsung was small, compact- oh- and he could take pictures. Oohhhh. I loved that. AND VIDEO! I was sold. (Shiny object syndrome). Was he receptive? No. He in fact was horrible in the communications field. I found myself talking into empty space most of the time. And all the while, he was eating at my face little by little with his metal teeth.
After my year with Mr. Samsung, and Mr. Samsung's ultimate demise through the device of a squirrel running from bush to tree, and a Pointer named Reagan causing Mr. Samsung to take a death plunge into a cherry blossom filled puddle, Mr. Nokia was right there waiting for me, as he always has been. Old reliable.
The lesson here? Stick with what you know, and avoid shiny new objects.
Emily Sailers of the Indigo Girls says it best...
"All those tiny little trinkets of temptation;
Something new instead of something old.
All you gotta do is scratch beneath the surface and its Fool's Gold..."
Point taken, Emily.

By now, the events of the morning were starting to take their toll on us, and we decided to descend to the first level for nourishment, as we were both tired, and hungry.
We fought our way through more throngs of teenage undead, and arrived at the food court.

Matt went to some Open Market deal and got a legume and air salad, or something like that, while I decided to man up to the Arby's counter and get myself a Roast Beef sammich. Yummy.
We finished up and escaped from Ballston Mall at last.
Mr. Nokia is resting comfortably and content by my side. While the dead remains of Mr. Samsung sit on the other side of this laptop. What to do with him, I wonder?
Should I throw him away? Recycle him? No.
I think I will keep him. As a reminder of my mistake.
My cell phone is now up and running, at the very same number, but in more competent hands...and all is right in the communications world.



JMahley said...

Was the chicken white with long feathers over his feet. Did the checken have a dark purple cockscomb? Did the guy have dark hair in a ponytail with a few highlighted streaks? Did he have tattoos on his arms? If so, you have finally met Daniel and his pet chicken Dizzy. Wendy and Dizzy clucked at each other, but Wendy was born in the year of the rooster.

StephenGregorySmith said...

wow. Yes, I think that was him.
Small world.
Too funny.

JMahley said...

Harumph. And you thought I was kidding when I told you about Dizzy!

StephenGregorySmith said...

NO, its just that some things have to be seen to truly be believed.
Not that I didn't believe you, I just couldn't comprehend the insanity until now.
Crazy world.

Trish Watkins said...

I SCREAM laughed about the kiosk lady's "rays of confusion" - how fucking funny was that? and totally TRUE!