It all started when my phone died. This probably already sounds annoyingly miniscule to you, but what you must understand is that my phone is my crack, my oxcytocin, and basically MY ADDICTION. I was leisurely sitting on the toilet, enjoying the latest Buzzfeed video when my “5% Battery Left” notification appeared. Annoyed, I swiped it away and continued to watch the video. Within 5 minutes or so, my phone completely shut down.
I stared blankly at the dark screen and attempted to turn on the phone, but it didn’t work. I wiped, fluhed, washed my hands, and briskly walked to my room to plug the charger into the phone. After I plugged it in, I took off my clothes and got into bed. When I looked at my dresser, I noticed that my phone wasn’t charging. Hell, it wasn’t even turned on! I threw off my covers, hopped out of bed, and flicked on the light.
I fiddled with my needle and heroin, excuse me, my charger and phone until I accidentally BROKE THE CHARGER. Technically, it was already broken, but it still felt like a knife to the heart. We had been through a lot, that charger and I… Anyway! I threw on a dress that was lying on the floor and headed to WalMart.
You would think at 12am, WalMart workers would be a tad bit more present since barely any customers were there. NOPE! Those assholes were hiding as I frantically looked through the electronic section for a cheap, yet reliable charger. Eventually I found a cute lime green one and raced towards the front of the store.
Of course by the time I reach the front there’s about 6 people in front of me, and all of them went hardcore grocery shopping. FYI hardcore grocery shopping is when you obviously have over 20 items. So I’m standing there, charger in my clenched fist, dress wrinkled with a few stains thanks to lunch from the day before, and this guy in front of me turns around. He glances down at my single item and says, “You can go in front of me since you only have one thing.” The clouds departed, angels flew down with their halos and their horns and their whatever the fuck else they have, and literally blessed me. Hallelujah! I believe, Lord!
Thankful beyond measure for the assistance to quicker drug usage, I nod and walk in front of him. In a rom-com of sorts we’d casually exchange pleasantries and eventually begin a beautiful relationship. This was reality, so we didn’t even talk again. Unfortunately, a customer that was behind me who we’ll just call Cunty McCunt Face said, “Ummm, there’s no cutting.” I pretended I didn’t hear her. In an even louder and more annoying voice she said, “Ma’am! There’s no cutting!” What were we, 5 year olds?
When I turned around, I expected Mr. Nice Guy to say something, but instead he just stared at his phone! “Oh, he said that it was okay since I only have one thing,” I replied with a smile that said “sorry” with a hint of “fuck you.” Well, little Miss Cunty replies, “Well I didn’t say it was okay and neither did the 3 people behind me.”
I kid you not, the people behind her shook their head in agreement…so I moved. Mr. Nice Guy who was not so nice still never said a word or backed me up. Chivalry was dead once Tinder was made. Five people later aka 45 minutes later because everyone at WalMart is stupid, I only had Mr. Nice Guy before it was my turn.
Anyone in their right mind would’ve left after 15 munutes and purchased a charger the next day. I was not in my right mind because I was beginning to detox and had no idea how many more people liked my bedtime selfie on Instagram from 3 hours ago or if someone had sent me a Snapchat or if Cyanide & Happiness uploaded a new video. I NEEDED MY FIX.
Within minutes I was in the front of the line. Success! “Good evening,” the depressed WalMart worker greeted me with a frown. I replied “HI!” in a voice that sounded way too eager for it to be 1am. “I’m sorry, but this one doesn’t have a price tag. It looks like someone peeled it off.” He fiddles with the box until he hands it back and says, “Can you get another one?” NO! I want to scream and throw things, but instead I say, “Well, I remember the price was $7.99.” I emit my luminous wide smile and bend forward a bit to show cleavage. He sighs and picks up the phone by the register. “Mary, we need a price check. Please head to register 6.” He sets the phone on the receiver and asks me to step aside until Mary comes.
I spot who I assume is Mary fast walking to the register. Yes, there IS a god! She takes the charger and heads to the back. Five minutes later and no Mary. Ten minutes later and I realize it’s been 10 minutes. Damn it, Mary! By now it’s basically 1:30am so I run to the back and see Mary chatting it up with a co-worker, old charger box still in hand! I skip past her to the charger section and grab a purple one WITH A PRICE TAG.
At this point, I’m running on fumes, barely surviving. My hands had no idea what to do and neither did my brain. When I get back to the front there is no one in line, fortunately. Depressed David the WalMart worker rings me right up, not even apologizing for Mary’s fuckery, and I bolt it to my car. Like a noob, I left my phone at home so I can’t even plug it in while I’m in the car.
As soon as I get home I toss the old charger and plug in the new one. Nearly shitting on myself with excitement, I plug in my phone…and it doesn’t even turn on. It was never my charger. It was my goddamn phone, which is where our story ends. Screw technology, I’m getting a tablet.
This has never happened to me and I hope it never does because I just “typed” this whole story on my Galaxy S7 Edge. Phones do have an addicting quality to them though, right?!