Mightier Than The Pen

Making The World A Bitter Place

Quick, Robin! To the Butt-phone!

with 2 comments

There’s nothing like walking away from the house, pushing a stroller, and having one’s wife emerge spontaneously from the edifice, in full view and earshot of sundry passers by, yelling, “Your butt!”

No, it was not an epithet. In case our secret lovers’ language has left you guessing, that was her loving way of informing me, lovingly, that I need a new phone.

I have a good phone. I tried to replace it once, but the replacement ceased to work after just a few days, so I reverted to the original. The old unit seems to have gotten the message, because it doesn’t turn off without warning so frequently anymore. One thing it still does, however, is unlock itself and dial random numbers. OK, not random: my wife’s number. Once unlocked, all it requires is two consecutive pushes of a soft key.

This happens because the lock/unlock function is engaged by holding down the pound key (or is it the star? It’s the one on the right), and since I keep my phone in my left pocket with my house keys and two pens and occasionally the car keys, it gets bumped every now and then.

The same phenomenon accounts for the text messages that I never send. I don’t text. But my phone does. Consecutive presses of the “menu” soft key eventually causes a blank message to be sent to the first “group” of my address book, which I was fortunately far too lazy to populate with more than one entry, which was unfortunate for a certain distant relative, who for some reason never bothered to ask me about them. I have since emptied that group. And if all those subordinate clauses disturb you, get a life. That’s especially relevant if those aren’t really subordinate clauses, but let’s face it: if I’m far too lazy lazy to click around in my phone’s address database, do you expect me to go back and relearn all that clause crap?

Before you suggest I switch pockets, note that my other pocket holds my wallet, which, though mostly useless, does provide balance so my trousers do not fall down only on one side at a time. It also sporadically contains cash, including a good bit of change, but mostly functions as a holder of cards: a driver’s license, five health plan cards for me and the kids, a buy-ten-loaves-get-one-free card for the local French bakery (I’m up to three), and something that says “VISA” on it. I think it’s a bookmark, which is always useful, considering how many books I’m in the middle of at a time. I used to have a Procrastinators Club card, but it disappeared at some point a number of years ago and I haven’t gotten around to looking for it.

I could get a phone holder that attaches to my belt, but the few that I’ve had don’t last: the clip wears out, and besides, I tend to wear one of those woven leather belts with a bit of thickness to them, if not outright slope, making clips kinda useless. As for the kind that you’re supposed to thread a belt through each time you put one one, see above re subordinate clauses.

Since the naughty mobile phone dials my wife’s number on occasion, the love of my life has taken to describing the phenomenon as my butt calling her, based on a Zits strip from about a year ago (and if you think I’m not too lazy to find it and link to it, you haven’t been listening). Also, since for some reason I can’t hear the ringing very well when the phone is crowded in my pocket, and the preponderance of other detritus in there shields my leg from the dangerous effects of the “vibrate” function, Mrs. Thag insists I need a new phone so I can hear her calling to say, “Your butt!” without having to announce it to the neighborhood.

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Written by Thag

November 22, 2010 at 3:03 pm

2 Responses

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  1. I may be the only person who has been able to “Clavicle Dial.” Yes, on occasion, I’ve had random body parts do the dialing for me: thumbs, elbows, cheeks (on my face, mind you). I have a touch phone, and, like you said, sometimes when it’s in my pocket, the red button gets pushed, which brings up the screen. Then, at that point, it’s fair game…I usually end up calling the last person who called me. My greatest mistake was Shoulder-Blade dialing a friend…the conversation went on for 12 minutes, despite the fact that it was mostly one-sided.

    I think there should be a blog dedicated to the art of the butt-dial!

    auntbethany

    November 22, 2010 at 3:21 pm

    • The solution is so obvious, I don’t know why the major manufacturers haven’t caught on: rotary cell phones.

      Thag

      November 22, 2010 at 3:37 pm


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