She needed a phone she said. After severely hammering the keypad of her K530i to the point where if it could have a voice, it would shout “RAPE!”. And in all her idiocy she turned to me.
The E71 was out of her budget, the Blackberry Pearl not to her liking and the HTC Touch was a brick. i had spoilt her by uttering the unthinkable, wi-fi.
Nevertheless after a bit of bitching, a bit of consternation and a bit of consideration it was finally settled, she would get a Razr 2 V8. With 2GB nothing less.
But the chronicling of this exercize on this blog wasn’t the purpose of this post. For throughout our buying session at the store was a horde of what seemingly resembled females.
They entered the store, breaking through the doors, toting their size godzilla bags on size zero frames, branded tees, streaked hair and cackling voices in tow. And in the cacophony they revelled, persuing one nubile phone after the next leaving utter irritation in their wake.
“GET THIS ONE!”
“No! No! My ex got the SAME one!”
“Wait ya! This matches my lipstick!”
“Hold on, this is nice! Look! It’s soooo shiny!”
And in all the noise, the head crow cawed with sagacity and wit unheard of for one of her tribe.
“Look at the Nokia website ya! Find out the features of the phone and decide if you want it!”
Apparently they lack faith in salesmen or their own instincts at reading box covers. Either way if they’re representative of our generation, we are, for the lack of a better word, screwed.
Having said that, we’re probably screwed anyway what with the following comment heard and cherished:
Person 1: You know how it is, you aim for the stars hoping to…
Person 2: …grab some ass.
Now Listening To: Dandy Warhols – Bohemian Like You
