Hard Cell
Clayton O'Neil reminisced during his thirty minute lunch break. He was thinking of the days when if a person was not at home, there just was no way of reaching them and they would just miss the call. Some bought those answering machines with those tiny cassettes that would record a message for the caller. Usually after what the owners of that number thought was a funny greeting or a cute jingle..."Nobody's home, nobody's home" to the tune of Beethoven's fifth.
He wished that when he called from his list of leads every day that most people just were not home. To his chagrin everyone had cell phones these days and they almost always answered. No one listened much longer than last "Hi! Is this (insert name here)? This Clayton, I work for Worldwide Insurance, perhaps you may have...."
Once, about 4 years ago he actually signed someone to a full coverage policy, life, auto, home. Most if his calls these days were follow ups on claims by getting the insured bodies details and advising what would be needed to proceed further.
Clayton told himself he would never get one of those demonic devices. He saw how everyone who ever got one would soon be possessed by it, staring at it's screen, typing away. Constantly looking to see if anyone called or texted when not doing the phones biddings. As if the phone needed to be held and have it's buttons pushed to live, fearing the quiet and cold existence it had when it just sat on a desk facedown. Or even the far worse feeling of not existing at all when it's owner let the battery drain. That is how Clayton imagined things atleast.
Today, his hold out has to end but he really had no other choice now. His mother had come down with Alzheimer's and it was necessary for him to be reached easy and quickly should an emergency arrived, or if Mama forgot how to get back home from the drugstore, or didn't know how to operate the microwave.
Yes today he becomes one of them. He won't let the devil take control of what spare life he had available to him. He was much smart than that and it would take a genie to appear each time he swiped the screen to keep him tied at the eyes.
After work today he would go to Cellular Country and pick out something simple that just received and made calls. He didn't need apps, alarms, gps, none of it and he was going into that store as man made of granite, he won't bend or budge to the snake charmer behind the counter into the newest and best so far version of the pocket computer.
