Stressful times
So my phone has been on its last legs for quite some time. It really has been a cause of distressing frustration. Various things subtly and overtly telling me that the time for an upgrade was many months ago. OK, OK! I get it! But because I had grown attached to this particular model of iPhone I had neglected to budge.
Well, my hand was forced not so long ago. The screen had been playing silly beggars for a while, constantly freezing and behaving in a manner that was winding me up. Then the day came when the screen basically went kaput and just wouldn't work. Oh no! I need my phone! It's an extension to my hand, you know. So having gone into a mini meltdown in my office and lamenting to anybody who cared to listen I tried to reboot my phone multiple times - all to no avail. The screen wasn't behaving how it should. My world was crashing down before my eyes. The minutes, hours without using my phone had become very stressful to me. Like I could see people ringing me but I just couldn't answer the phone. No matter how much I touched the screen nothing was working for me. Argh!
So lunchtime came and after I devoured my nutritious food I scurried off to the local indoor market, a haven of Asian owned merchants (from Manchester) who specialise in a questionable range of, erm, 'stuff.' Old season sports clothing, footwear, and mobile phones. Yes, this mancunian Asian chap could help me with my plight. I approached somewhat perturbed. After finishing talking to a docile looking female he turned his attention to me and my phone. He said he could fix it for the sum of £50. £50! I screamed in my head! But outwardly I stayed cool, calm and dejected. "Oh OK," I casually replied. "I may come back..." As I sauntered off thinking how I didn't want to spend that amount on getting my screen fixed. Knowing that I really would need to pay that to be reconnected back to the world of futile conversation. So I decided to go and enquire of another man from India (I assumed) he was Asian so probably he was from there. Or Pakistan, or Bradford, oh I don't know. Anyway he was Asian and he quoted me £55, however this time my eyebrows told him that I was not willing to pay such a fee. Realising that he was potential missing out on Rupee he attempted to barter with me, as though we were in a busy market place haggling over livestock and exotic spices. I promptly left that man and went back to the first merchant who took my phone and said come back in thirty minutes. I'm telling you; those final thirty minutes away from communication really must have affected those who were dying to get in touch with me. How on earth did they cope. I guess I'll never know. When I received my phone back I checked the missed calls list. 100. Text messages. 200. (Ahem, well...) I wasn't satisfied as I complained to the man that the screen resolution wasn't to my liking to which he replied I will reboot it for you if you wish. I said yes, please. So he did. The proceeding hour or so afterwards has since made me realise that I am a product of modern technology and a slave to a new wave of contemporary communication.
Anyway, so I returned to my office. Phew. Phone had been fixed and I could now inform all of the friends and family whose lives revolve around my wonderful communication skills that I was back. So I began to have a riveting chat with one friend and that friend made a comment which I thought, ah this calls for the apt emoji of a monkey covering its face with its furry monkey paws. I quickly went to send it and saw it wasn't there. Wait a tiny minute. Where's my trusty monkey face at? I looked, but I couldn't find it. So I was forced not to use it. Again we continued to talk about important social issues and the friend made a comment that to my mind required the emoji of the clenched teeth smiley face. This had better be there. I looked and again like the little brown monkey - it wasn't there! "What is going on?!" I exclaimed to myself. Where are my beloved emojis?!!
How on earth am I supposed to articulate myself properly without emojis?! How can I convey my thoughts and feelings without a monkey and yellow faces and little character people and not to mention the various other necessary communicative tools. I began to fret, and felt a pinch of panic. Suddenly my mind was forced to recall the Indian man!
The one from Birmingham! I mean Manchester, never mind - It was his fault - he had rebooted my phone! As I continued the text conversation I began to feel that my speech was being hamstrung. I really needed to let my friend know I was not a happy poo!
I felt frustrated and worried, I was thinking negative thoughts about a man from oversees! A colleague told me to use the App Store to purchase more emojis, so frantically I rushed to the store in my phone. Eventually after much bother I had my full armour of emojis back. I was so thankful, relieved, giddy. I could now communicate properly, effectively. Like a normal person. I was eagerly waiting to use my favourite emojis. Even if they didn't fit the conversation - you better believe I was going to use them!
I'm telling you - I wouldn't wish a lack of emojis on even my worst enemy. Honestly. As far as I'm concerned we all need emojis in our lives.
Demola, TCC
Comments
Post a Comment