There is no real reason why I need a cell phone these days. I do not have important people to call any more, and I have no friends to text. Apparently however I need to be contactable by the nursery in an Emergency, or they ring Social Services instead.
The LTLP has now got a Blackberry, which means that half my emails are things like ‘get the dinner on’. So I have taken her old phone, which is a Motorola and bright lurid pink.
One of the advantages of living in a small village is that nobody is particularly bothered about fashion or stuff, so it is not as if people will laugh at me for having a bright lurid pink phone. Unfortunately the first time I have to use it is in the middle of the shopping centre in King’s Lynn in the school holidays. I huddle up with my body pressed against a wall, trying to take the call with my head tucked underneath my anorak. I do not want to find myself the subject of the weekly “POLICE HUNT ‘MINDLESS’ ATTACKERS” headline in the local newspaper.
I am relieved when the call ends and I am able to escape to the security of home. It is actually quite a snazzy phone, with features such as a camera and the ability to play a tune when a call arrives rather than just a ringing noise. I have to say that I am quite proud of it.
I go to the Village Pub.
Everybody points and laughs at me.