Sunday, March 30, 2008

More Laundry Disasters

Well, I just washed and dried young M's cel phone.


There's nothing much else to say about that except that it's a little ironic that just now when I got home, toasty warm forever destroyed cell phone in my laundry basket, ebay had left me an email about a camera I was watching. Good thing I didn't bid. No camera now. You know I just got him a new cel phone in December and it cost the earth even given the hours of phone bargaining I did with the Sprint people. They won't insure him anymore, either, because if you actually use your $7 a month insurance to get a $50 replacement phone more than twice, you become uninsurable. Naturally. You'd think it would be possible to find used cell phones given how many people upgrade somehow but alas, it is not and even though you can buy a disposable phone for less than $20, you can't get one that will work with Sprint for less than $150. Goodbye, camera dreams. Fuck. And I can't even be that mad at him: he didn't lose it or leave it somewhere or break it mysteriously; he forgot it in his jeans pocket and I, who should fucking know better, didn't check any pockets.

I had been hoping to escape from Sprint somehow, because sometimes I get a little wary of the way my soul has been signed away and the bill keeps on rising inexorably, even though my Sprint phone is useless where I work, unable to detect a signal through the concrete. Everyone else's phone works there, but not mine. So I thought perhaps I would get away and switch, although all the phone companies are just sprouts off the root of ultimate evil, I know. Now that I'll have to somehow come up with another phone I can't afford, that plan is doomed, because every time you do anything at all with Sprint, like walk in the door of their "store" or whisper the word Sprint at midnight on a full moon, your contract mysteriously becomes two years longer. You know this because bats fly down the chimney and drop the new one, full of two point Gothic type, signed in blood and trailing a few sacrificial feathers, in your kitchen. Sprint has me forever and they know it. I heard the eldritch laughter and saw the puff of brimstone when I pulled the phone from the dryer.

Damn it.


Edgy Mama said...

Read much gothic fantasy this weekend?

mygothlaundry said...

Why is it that noone ever believes me when I write the whole, unvarnished, journalistic truth?

Heh. Actually, no, I hate gothic fantasy. All the current vampire series novels give me hives: they read like extended, unpleasant sexual fantasies and they're interchangeable.

Edgy Mama said...

It was the "eldritch" and the "brimstone" that got me thinking gothic fantasy, though I guess that's just fantasy fantasy.

I loved the early Anne Rice vampire novels, but I haven't read any of the recent series of vampiric sex fantasies--romances with fangs. Ha!

Edward said...

I got a pay as you go deal a few years ago with Verizon. Works out to about $15/month, but I don't use the cell a lot.