Tuesday, November 18, 2008

You've got more rabbit than Sainsburys

An exchange in in a high street mobile phone store this lunchtime:

Salesman: Do you want insurance with this mobile?
Me: No
Do you want a memory card, I can do you a deal?
You should change providers, it's cheaper
Hands-free kit?
Are you sure you don't want insurance?
Put it this way, I won't be leaving my phone in my pocket again so it falls out into the toilet, so there is no need
We could change your BT deal for broadband and home phone to our deal, it's cheaper.
Just give me the mobile

I suppose it could be worse. My network provider's shop had an atrocious selection of phones, the nearest one to my old model being a shiny candy-pink monstrosity (alternative cover: white with butterflies on it). Even the sales assistant mocked this particular product, which probably went against all the training he'd ever received.

So, yes, I dropped my phone down the toilet in while I was in Derby, like an absolute twat. I'm afraid to say that this took the shine off an otherwise very pleasant weekend.

Nobody wants to get attached to a material object like their mobile phone, but it happens over time, just as you might one day find yourself inexplicably addicted to Holby City, or having an inappropriate crush on someone awful (I know a woman who once admitted to fancying this man - jeez).

I'm kidding myself that this is a 21st century malaise, etc, but what it really means is that I got way too upset over what can only be described as a small oblong box with circuitry inside it. As usual I've disgraced myself and gone off on a poorly-argued tangent. Plus ca change!

The aforementioned weekend, by the way, was super and featured (in no particular order) long chats with Mrs West, playing snap with children, drinking vodkas (some of them long) and dancing to indie hits of yesteryear. Great stuff.

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