I was at the mall for five hours yesterday.  No, I don’t have a job there.  And I came home without a book.  Since my mall trips usually revolve around Starbucks fixes and buying books in bulk, my extended stay is worthy of note.

Sarge and I have had rival mobile phones since I got an iPhone two years ago.  Didn’t want it at first, but because I hadn’t upgraded for years, I got one ‘for free’.  The dudes in the shop practically threw it at me.

They threw me another one yesterday.  Only this time I asked for it.  I now have an iPhone 4.  My Siri is a dude.  This confuses me, because Siri is a girl’s name.  But whatever.  It’s just a phone, people.  A very cool phone, but still just a phone.

I signed my name to lots of bits of paper yesterday.  Then I left both phones in the shop so my contacts and photos could be transferred to the new phone.  That would take an hour.

So I went shopping.  I might have bought what my mother would call a ‘cute top’ for the engagement bonfire this weekend.  I may have discovered I am a whole two sizes smaller than I was at Christmas, the last time I bought clothes.  I may have sat, phoneless and bookless in Starbucks. With a tall hazelnut latte and a skinny (yes, really) blueberry muffin.  I haven’t been trying to lose weight, but it may as well stay gone.

I went back to the phone shop.  ‘Another hour,’ they said.  ‘Lots of photos, over a thousand,’ they said.

893, I thought.  Because my phone is with me when my digital camera is not.  And my phone takes better photos.

And so, I went off in search of yesterday evening’s dinner.  And there was nothing skinny about the chocolate mousse I picked up for dessert.

I circled back to the phone shop.  ‘Three minutes,’ they said.

And then my phone rang.  The new one.  It was Dad.  The conversation went something like this:

‘HelloDaddyI’minthephoneshop.’

‘Did you get my message?’

‘No.’

‘Have you read your email?’

‘NoDaddyI’vebeeninthemallForAllTheTimes.’

‘Oh.  Carry on, my dear.  Have Siri call me later.’

I signed some more bits of paper and took both phones home.

This is what happened when I tried to ‘train’ the new one:

Call Dad.

Call Dave?

Um, no.  Please don’t.

Text (Sarge).

What would you like to text (Sarge)?

I’m texting using my voice!

Text Izuzu my voice?

Well, maybe.  I have always wanted to do voice-overs!

Check the weather in Edinburgh.

Check in with Bro?

I wish, Siri.  Thank you.

What time is it in New York?

The time in NYC, USA is 11.41 AM

Buy Doritos.

I can’t do that for you.  Sorry to disappoint you.

That’s OK, Siri.  You’re just a phone.  And I should probably have grapes instead.

Image representing Siri as depicted in CrunchBase

Image via CrunchBase

 

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