Phone Lust

Posted by Jules on July 31st, 2009

sex-and-the-city-carrie-phone

I’m in love with….Steve Jobs.  I have,until my birthday this week, managed to avoid falling onto the iphone bandwagon and cheered joyfully at that scene in Sex and The City, the film, when Carrie is given an iphone to call Mr. Big to enquire whether he might be turning up any time soon to wed her.

“I can’t work that!”  she cries in desperation handing it back.  (ça c’est moi I thought)

I soldiered on with my caveman version Motorolla designed by a sadistic parrot who thinks that all humans are demented, refusing to be conned by Swisscom and Apple.  I hate answering the “real” phone which for clarity’s sake I will call here the telephone and all my friends (I now have the heady sum of 9 on facebook) and family know that if they want to contact me then SMS or email is best.  The telephone is such an intrusion and I’m not always sweet (I know that  will be astonishing to some of you) and ready for a chat so like to let my fingers do the talking most of the time.  Motorolla and I are not friends, in fact we have never bonded.  This particular phone was beginning to make me wonder whether technology was passing me by and soon like Madre, I would be discovered trying to press buttons with the cover still on.

Here is a typical conversation with me and my Motorolla:

Motorolla:  Are you sure you want to send this message to so and so?

Me : Yes

Motorolla:  Are you sure you are sure?  Shall I not save it as a draft so that you can think about it?

Me: No er yes er no errrrgghhhh!

Motorolla: Message saved as draft.

Me:  Send, send, send  the *!£+! message!!! 

Now I have fallen in love and my life is so simple.  I have my diary, music, a great keyboard on which to type at speed and all the rest that you all probably have known about for ever whilst I was stubbornly refusing to be taken out on a date.  And so flashy, all chrome and glass slenderness whilst anything else looks like it has been whittled in a cave by a whittling instrument (whittler?).

Uncategorized 4 Comments

Francesca Prescott said,

August 2, 2009 @ 5:37 pm

Hmmm, I’m beginning to wonder why I never bonded with my I-Phone, and passed it on to Prescott junior (who promptly dropped it and cracked the screen. “But don’t worry, it still works!”). I too loved the sleek design, and the music, and the photos. But sending text messages? Ugh! It took me ten minutes instead of ten seconds to type “Where are you?” to my straying kids, because the damn letters were so close together, and the touch screen so sensitive and…well…I have big hands with matching big fingers. I got fed up with typing gobbledeegoop. Do you think Mr Big sent Carrie lots of messages? I wonder…

Until Steve Jobs puts out an I-Phone for ladies with butter-fingers, I’m sticking to my easy texting Nokia.

jules said,

August 2, 2009 @ 7:38 pm

Ahhh I was worried about that too until a nice Philippino lady at a lunch showed me that if you turned the screen sideways the keyboard enlarged! It also does that nice thing where if you make a typo it politely works out the correct word for you and discreetly inserts it instead of trying to guess what you are saying and going off on a tangent like all the other rubbish phones out there. Never liked Mr. Big, not my type too too what’s the word? Slippery. Phone sex probably. How are you? When are we going to go out? You have a fan in Cologny who read your book on a beach in Ibiza.

Francesca Prescott said,

August 2, 2009 @ 9:13 pm

Ooh, you must have a more recent model, because I don’t think my keyboard enlarged when turned sideways. I must say that my I-Phone was actually clever enough to work out what language I was using when I texted multilingually. How the heck did Steve Jobs manage that? BTW I quite liked Mr.Big, maybe because he matched my own bigness. Liked the little guy too, though…you know, the one who left skid marks on his boxers. Not because of the skid marks of course, more like despite them. Aidan was the cutest though, don’t you think?

I’m happy to go out anytime, and am thrilled to hear about my fan in Cologny! Would love them to drop me a message via my guest-book :) Hint hint!

jules said,

August 3, 2009 @ 6:30 am

Mr. Big Jobs (ha ha…it’s early I was woken up by the bottle bank again…we are writing to the commune, disgusted from Biggleswade, about the amount of wine being consumed by Swiss farmers tut tut) gets inside our brains…thinks logically and creatively like a woman not a man or a demented parrot for that matter. As for SITC you’ve lost me. I only saw the “movie” so have no reference points for skid marks. I will pass on request.

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