This could be called "B is for Twit [who has my number]" or "B is for Logic [and why women don't have any]" or even "B is for PHONE COMPANY [who deactivated my account to give someone else my number]" instead, i will call it 'B is for Culmination" because yesterday was i suspect, the cherry in the center of a molotov cocktail. yes... that too probably doesn't make sense.
My phone called me to cuss me yesterday. Of course, the truth is, IT IS NOT MY PHONE ANYMORE! But the way i was to find out - via fiery text message and equally fiery phone call - was abominable. A few seasons ago, when the telecommunications landscape was changing here, one had to have TWO PHONES because BOTH PARTIES were being asinine towards each other. so to my trusty bmobile "me2" [a generic phone the whole country had], mom bought be a digicel which came with a free bag [yay marketing]. Now i'm a writer. i've written jingles, press ads, short stories, poetry, the beginnings of new works and ideas on my phone. I BELIEVE in my phone. the idea of having two of them is wondrous because i can send notes to myself - who needs to talk to people. I also treasure the messages from friends and family, so on BOTH phones are messages from like... 2007 or something STILL.
So one weekend, i left the charger in the office. The bmobile died. Having the same type of phone [Nokia] with digicel, i switched batteries. it worked. for a day. then the phone died. lights flashing but nothing happening. kaput went the bmobile. i am left with my digicel. fine. i can STILL send messages to the bmobile because it was still FULL OF CREDIT [embrace prepaid]. So yesterday, i sent a piece of randomness to the "dead" phone in hopes to record it. At 2pm my phone... MY DEAD BMOBILE PHONE sent me a text message cussing my ass. then came the phone call from a little [sounding] twit who clearly has no intelligence, or viable mental faculties. Why dear heaven, WHY won't the average woman embrace logic? I say average - some of you are not in that category, so pipe down.
In essence, bmobile deactivated the account - fine; gave my number to a fool - yes... a fool! This is the culmination of a season of uber-hatred, of croc filled waters that is now my living senses. i can no longer send messages to myself. which is both a proactive measure and a steaming pile of ass since this phone is also bepping and i refuse to buy a blackberry [yes... i'm an apple]
so here's to you - moron woman/girl who couldn't handle the situation with class and decorum. it bites my tongue to not summon a curse on your ass until every thing turns to dry vegetation! but then... i'd have to send one to my father [hahahaha!]
my bmobile number deserved better. but whatever.
pax. tracy j h