Guv’ner Phone Home

I had Friday off work due to our stellar Summer Friday program where we each get six Fridays during June, July and August off work, paid. Like extra vacation. Six extra long weekends. As you can imagine, the Guv’ner is very agreeable to such policies and equally enthusiastic about the week between Christmas and New Year where we also close down and it doesn’t count as vacation time. I prefer to call these days off “Necessary Homicide Prevention Days” because it does somewhat allow me time to pop Xanax like candy in order to sleep for twelve hour periods at a time and in between fill my veins with Captain Morgan’s Spiced rum and cheese (not at the same time, although really it depends on the amount of rum we’re talking about here).

Today I arrived in my office to find that things were not as I left them on Thursday, despite the fact my office is kept locked. Hmmm. The reason I knew this? Well stuff had moved around my desk as though some invisible force were trying to find something. Then I turned around to dump my bag and I saw it. The. New. Phone.

Now you may be thinking, “Geez Guv, so effing what, it’s a phone!” but you see, you clearly don’t understand. My previous phone had the numbers etched in stone. It had a horn that you held up to your ear while you yelled and a lever you had to crank to get an operator who sounds like one of those ladies from a Pathé News reel. Ok, maybe it wasn’t that bad but let’s just say it probably was really, really cool in 1976. When you picked up the receiver, instead of a dial tone you got 1970s’ “Starsky & Hutch” theme-type, funky porn music. Bow chica bow bow.

The new phone though. It made me recoil in horror, my back against the wall, while I watched it cautiously in case it decided to evaporate me or give me orders. There are buttons and options up the wazoo. I’m still pretty sure there’s an option for making coffee on there someplace… It’s on a stand which makes it stand upright and it has a glowing, full color, TV-like screen display that can tell you exactly who is calling, their number and probably even what color underpants they’re wearing, what they plan on ordering for lunch and maybe those dirty, nasty thoughts they’re having about that new girl in planning. It also tracks calls rather blatantly, so no more calling “Boys Butts R Us” or 1-800-GUN-PLEASE during my lunch hour anymore. Shame.

Naturally, I have as much idea how to use this beast as I do the cockpit of an airplane so today should be interesting.

It sure looks purty though.


12 Responses to “Guv’ner Phone Home”

  1. pistols at dawn Says:

    We here at Boys Butts R Us would like to thank you for your years of patronage, and while we’re sad to lose your daily calls, we’re also happy that you’re no longer using a phonograph as your primary means of conversation. Best of luck to you in your future endeavors, be they related to man ass or not.

  2. The Guv'ner Says:

    It’s kind of shocking to think you might for a moment entertain the notion that “man ass” doesn’t come into everything I do. Although, granted, usually it’s in the form of “That man he is an ASS!”

  3. Chris Says:

    I saw an advertisement on the back of a magazine the other day for a cellular telephone that does NOT take photos, play MP3’s, or let you surf the Net. It was a phone with big ol’ buttons you can push. You don’t have to push “send” or anything, you just dial the numbers, then talk.

    I found myself fascinated. A phone that’s a phone. How odd. Unique.

    I gotta remember to get you and Leonesse listed on my blogroll… Been meaning to do that for weeks.

  4. pistols at dawn Says:

    I’m imagining at this point, you’ve comically misused it, resulting in five unclaimed pizzas ordered by your company and possibly an apology required from our country to Chad. Not the country, but this dude I know.

  5. The Guv'ner Says:

    I finally got round to adding you. I always like to take the scenic route – takes forever but I get there in the end 🙂

    My phone takes photos and does countless other things I don’t know about or need. I don’t even make calls on the thing most of the time. I text, I call if I have to and that’s it… I only got it cos my old one was so past it and I had to upgrade and as you pointed out, you can’t get a damn phone without gadgets anymore.

    This office one though…it makes me jump three feet in the air whenever it rings. And stuff flashes at you. And there are things that are just mysteries. Seriously, i need to answer calls, put them in voice mail, check voice mail and conference people together, that’s IT! Pah!

  6. The Guv'ner Says:

    Hey Pistols you old dog. No pizzas so far although I seem to have acquired a Doctor and a Flamenco dancer…

    I did put a top client into my boss’s voice mail only to direct him somewhere in the stratosphere meaning I had to call the poor man back and of course blame the mishap on the phone (cos it couldn’t possibly have been ME pressing buttons willy nilly) He’s a nice fella though and he laughed. At me mainly.

  7. pistols at dawn Says:

    If I’ve learned one coping mechanism in my life, it’s that saying “I’m an idiot” will always help defuse the situation. Unless the situation is a bomb, in which case, it actually makes everyone a lot more nervous when you’re cutting the wires.

  8. The Guv'ner Says:

    When diffusing bombs I usually just follow the eeny, meeny, miny, mo routine.

    So far so good.

    Ha, like I ever diffuse bombs. I WANT the things to go off. Only on certain people though. And only in my head. The scenario I mean, not the bomb.

  9. Bert Bananas Says:

    “There are buttons and options up the wazoo.”

    I do love me some pornography!

  10. The Guv'ner Says:

    If your porn involves buttons and options up the wazoo, maybe you need a Real Doll.

  11. Bert Bananas Says:

    I may have mistakenly thought you were throwing yourself at me… But now I’m guessing that that wasn’t you on the home page.

    Now if I only knew how to delete a blog…

  12. The Guv'ner Says:

    Much as I desire to look like a “real doll”, Bertie, I do like to keep my orifices private and my skin un-oiled and my boobs less basketball like. But I appreciate the uh…compliment. I think.

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