Up in Ontario

Ringxiety, Life With My New Cell Phone

To report back to you, dear readers, on my continuing quest for telecommunications sanity, I have news! I have taken the plunge and signed up, hook, line and sinker, for a celly. I was done shopping, found a reasonable compromise, an excellent sales person, and did the deal.

Now I have a sleek Motorola RAZR v3 to trundle around in my pocket. It synchronizes with the address book on my computers and holds a charge longer than I have been able to exhaust it. I refuse to read the product manual and consider my ineptness with the device part of a social experiment.

Carrier? In the end Telus, the great inheritor of our local telecommunications-privatization largesse (we remember that right? That all these telco monopolies not 15 years ago were inflexible, bureaucratic public utilities? That we all owned them at one point?) also became the inheritor of my largesse, a prize extracted from me largely due to my consumer fatigue. I broke down. I was done. I couldn't be bothered to spend any more time considering the decision when there was no decision to be made. It was a case of the best worst case, the strongest of a bad lot, and I just wanted it to be over. I have only a little shame in reporting that the bastards did finally grind me down.

So far I received 43 calls on my spanking new celly, and I have yet to develop Ringxiety.