Sunday, January 26, 2014
Yesterday I got a new mobile - a Samsung something-or-other sufficiently hi-tech to provoke envy amongst the Wafflettes yet clearly sooooo 'last year' for there to be a deal. The jolly salesman punches my details into the computer & comes up with various options which prove we've been paying well over the odds for the past year or so. He checks the number of messages I send per month & is astonished at the figure: on average I send 7 (the typical teenager sends 60 plus per ... day). What do I have to say? I shrug apologetically.
I walk to the other end of the shop to collect the phone. A small brown box - it might be a pack of tea. Is that it? No manual, of course. Exasperated, L. grabs it out my hands & shows me how to unlock the screen, flip through menus, etc.. Pure intuition. Or simply the result of playground conversations. Phones are the lingua franca of the becoming-adolescents these days.
See ya. Wouldn't wanna be ya. L.O.S.E.R.
"Switch off the candles?" One extinguishes, my dear ...
P.S. to previous post ... .... the 'formula' was in no way meant to imply any criticism of Dusapin's music. Quite the contra...