Stop callin’, stop callin’

Living in the ICT age is unbelievable that somebody hasn’t got a mobile phone and hard to imagine that it’s not a smart phone with Internet access and lots of applications. Nevertheless, against the odds, here I am.

Having resisted for years to my friends’ never-ending argument of how a mobile phone would bring us closer and being about to finish my degree and not go back to university — ingenuous me —, I gave in to the social pressure as an investment for my working life. Unfortunately, I still studied two masters and had no working flourishing or friends’ calls.

I dislike telephones since I can remember having seen one for the first time. Whenever my school friends phoned, I’d answer in monosyllables to their surprise. I even spent as much time as possible outside on my birthdays to avoid all the family calls, which my mother answered. My dislike for telecommunication remained unchanged by mobile phones. I’d leave my phone at home when I went out and didn’t want to be disturbed or forget about it when I got a flat battery. Little has changed during the last four years.

Stop telephoning me-e-e-e-e.

Friends and students are always amazed at my last generation phones — in the last surviving generation way. Two weeks ago I bought my third phone ever and it just makes calls and sends texts, just like the others, and that’s all I need.

All this will apparently make me responsible for human extinction since everybody plans to have an accident on the mountain or being alone at home or at work, or to be raped, tortured and mutilated, and then, even though they never call me, I’ll be the only person they’ll be able to contact to avoid those misfortunes happening at that moment some miles away from me.


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