The Number You Have Dialed HAS A LIFE

Predator Press

[LOBO]

Teenagers spend a lot of time on the phone.

They are very busy and important people.

And I'm okay with that. Seriously. It's not fucking up my bandwidth all that much.

But they call a lot.

Nobody has called me since 2002, and I kinda liked it that way. But now, the same person will call four times in a row. And not just leave a message and move on, but just call and call.

And call.


***

I mean if you call once and you choose not to leave a message, I get that. You wanted to talk to the person live. Nothing particularly important.

The second call presupposes something like you were in the shower. While toweling suds out of your eyes, you make a heroic effort for the phone ... but just as you get there, the call switches to voicemail and the dripping water shorts out your Caller ID.

I can sympathize.

But the third call always makes me wonder what exactly this particular teenager is telling people about the size of our place. Okay: maybe you're in the pool. And while drying off the phone starts ringing again and you realize you've locked yourself out of the house ... and off in the distance you can hear Freddy Krueger start to churn through the outer perimeters of your hedge maze.

But a fourth call?

I'm totally bewildered.

Okay this scenario suggests that you've had your calls forwarded to the 7-11. And as you pour your Slurpee, a crashing meteor wipes out all mankind and accidentally creates flesh eating zombies: it's only then you realize you've locked yourself out of the church, and off in the distance you can hear Freddy Krueger; all civilization as we know it has come to an abrupt and bitter end, and one lone human being is crying out for help as the frail atmosphere is being sucked violently from Earth by a black hole.

Frankly, I still wouldn't answer: I would obviously have my own problems to deal with.

... and humanity's last Slurpee.