Cutting the proverbial line
Almost exactly three years ago, I decided to adapt. People wondered why the tech guy was, pretty much, the only one in the place without a cellphone. Peer pressure. After a short consultation with a specialist at the local box store, I signed on the proverbial dotted line, and added a smartphone to my toolkit.
This morning, I found a pair of virtual scissors, and I cut that proverbial dotted line. Cellphones in Canada aren’t cheap, to own or operate. Over a grand per year. Enough to keep the credit card balance falling back into red despite my best effort. When I called the 611 hotline, I expected a sales pitch. A testimonial to my valuable customer status. Instead, a shrug of the shoulders and one word: Why? When I explained that my contract was expiring, that I had moved to another province, after retiring from the workforce and running out of reasons to ever call anyone, the matching answer. OK.
I’m free! I own a tiny pocket computer that requires careful attention to the battery level. Only useful when I’m within range of free wifi. With no maintenance insurance (that was also on my cancellation list). The phone that never phoned is stored in a drawer with my clean socks; should I ever need to get back into the crazy maze of cell service, I understand my options. I hope my real option is to never need it, again. Other than as a Skype handset.
Strange noises before dawn, with lots of lights flashing on the treeline. No alien spaceship… the contracted road mow service made a pass by outside. Guess the operator wanted to avoid the daytime heat wave.
