There are few things worse than trying to use someone else's phone. Obviously there are many things worse, but reading and replying to a text from my friend's housemate as said friend tried to drive in convoy, at speed through rush hour traffic wasn't the easiest thing I've ever done. It's quite an old phone, with at least three letters on each key. I had to start again four times before I found the delete button, and where on earth is the full stop? I have never sent such a badly-punctuated text.
It didn't
help that calls were coming in at the same time from passengers in the other
vehicles we were travelling with. We lost the lead driver early on, as
she was following her satnav and turned off unexpectedly. "Tell them
not to worry," my friend said, "I think I know the way. Oh, and
you'd better call the others so they don't panic either." That was
all very well, but my friend had dropped her phone in a pot of paint some days
previously, so you have to hold it horizontally and speak into the end - but
then you can't hear what the other person is saying. It also didn't help
that the other person had two very vocal lambs in the back of her vehicle and we
had two dogs in ours.
At least we
all had our phones switched on, unlike my beloved. His defence?
"I wanted to save the battery, and I didn't need to speak to
anyone." My response? "That's why you nearly had nasty pizza
instead of nice beef chow mien.
