Communication breakdown – foto Smith
Minus the title, I got this text today:
Wrong # Text
Come Now My
Key No Fit
Dan Lie Me
— Smith, 10.3.2012
I don’t reply to wrong number texts but replied *Wrong Number* this time so the sender wouldn’t be waiting for whomever he meant to send.
For a year after I got my dumb fone [it has no camera, no internet, no big fone bill] I got many messages for a Michael . . . as near as I could tell from the texts, he was probably a drug dealer.
After Michael’s calls stopped coming, I received a couple angry texts demanding I *come down right now and open the door bitch* which needless to say didn’t happen. I wonder if he ever got in; hope not for her sake.
Lately there’s been a few of Wayne’s oddly phrased texts and some calls wondering if I’m Wal-Mart, Target, and Walgreens. I should tell them yes, that we have a sale on my memoir.
The most irritating is a once a month pre-recorded call from a chirpy female android demanding I press #1 now to update my free Google number. Gotten at least 12 of those, all unwanted, all unpressed. May they stick their request up their flux flow.
I basically use my cell fone as a pocket watch . . . and to keep connected with my wife. Don’t like to talk on the fone, don’t like to be interrupted by the fone. Don’t like chit chat cuz that’s not where it’s at. I like land line fones because they stay in one place and I get to leave, but it’s been six years since I had one.
But I do appreciate today’s free found poem . . . usually I have to go find them, but this one found me; of course it had its price — I was drifting wondrously half-asleep in my hot bath when the ring shattered it all.
Target – foto Smith