Phones are for Phonies

"Hello?"

So the truth is, I'm not a big telephone talker. That was all sunshine and daisies back in 2nd grade when Mom finally let me call up a friend for homework, as long as I used my best telephone manners.

"Hello, this is Natasha Ferrier from school. May I please speak with Mary Sue?"

"She's not here right now, Natasha. May I take a message?"

"MOM! SHE WANTS ME TO LEAVE A MESSAGE!"

"REMEMBER TO SPEAK CLEARLY, HONEY!"

"Yes, please. Just have her call me back at Six-Four-Six-Seven-Four-One-Five. THAT'S Six-FOUR-Six-Seven-Four-ONE-FIVE. And this is Natasha Ferrier. F as in Frank, E-R-R-I-E-R. Thank you."

Then it evolved into 10 minute conversations with my best friend about how despite what everyone else said, we knew we were real witches and that's all that mattered.

"Have you gotten your letter from Hogwarts yet?"

"No! My mom must have thrown it away by accident!"

"Don't worry, I won't go without you."

"Good thing we found each other. I turned on the TV today without using the remote."

"That's a good first step. Hogwarts will DEFINITELY notice something like that. Today there was this CD in the radio, and it kept on skipping, and even though my mom kept cleaning it off with her shirt, it kept skipping, so I said, "Mom, let me handle this." and I said a few words and put it back in, and guess what?! It didn't skip ONE TIME."

"We are SO witches.

And it was at its peak when Mario gave me his number and I would call him every night, even though the only thing I said was the number of minutes I had left to talk .

"I have 20 minutes left."

Heavy breathing.

"I have 15 minutes left."

Heavy breathing.

"Now I have 10 minutes left."

Heavy breathing.

"Man, now I only have 5 minutes! This sucks! We need more time to talk!"

Heaving Breathing. Click.

People only like to talk on the phone when they are the ones with something exciting to say, something they believe has significant importance. Like that one summer before 9th grade, I got a call that I'm sure to my friend seemed to have crucial value, but I just thought about how my ear was getting sweatier by the second.

"Natasha? This is Mala."

"MALA! HEY! HOW ARE YOU? WE HAVEN'T TALKED ALL SUMMER!"

"Have you been baptised."

"What?"

"Have you been baptised."

"No..."

"Why not."

"What?"

"Why not."

"I'm waiting until I know for sure..."

"Does that mean you don't believe in Jesus."

"No..."

"Because if you're not baptised, it means you don't believe in Jesus."

"I do believe in Jesus."

"He is our Savior."

"And my homeboy."

"He is the one and only son of God."

"And my homeboy."

"You're going to Hell."

"What?"

"You're not baptised."

"I'm WAITING, MALA."

"You're going to Hell."

"Is that really something you have the power to say?"

"You're going to Hell."

"Saying it twice doesn't cancel them both out, Mala."

"You're going to hell."

"MALA I AM---"

Click.

Then there was that one week. That one week got me pissed.

"Hello?"

"Are you gothic now?"

"Who is this?"

"You ARE, aren't you?"

"NO I AM NOT A GOTH!"

"Hello?"

"Are you obese now?"

"Haha, who is this?"

"Like, how much do you weigh exactly?"

"Okay, who is this."

"I would say anywhere from 150 and up is obese."

"WELL I DON'T WEIGH 150 POUNDS."

"HELLO."

"Are you a fat goth now?"

"Your mom's a fat goth."

"WHAT?!"

"Natasha, it's Jane. There's a rumor going around at my school that you worship the devil and are really, really fat."

"Yes, I know. Thank God you called, Jane. I was getting so mad."

"So...is it true?"

Click.

You may be thinking that the reason I hate phones is because of all the telephone traumas I have had to deal with in my lifetime. But no, I just hate phones. It may be because no matter how hard I tried, no matter how long I practiced, I could never master the handless-hold where you hold the phone between your shoulder and ear by leaning your neck to the side. If anyone needs the handless-hold, it's ME. Not MALA. Not JANE. Not the kid in my Chemistry class who rubbed his nipples to think. ME. Phones are for phonies. Cells are the real deal.