The process of getting a new phone is so weirdly unique. It’s not like anything else I can think of. You get this device that is somewhat familiar. It remembers your old friends, and all the pictures you’ve taken, but it is a decidedly different ‘thing’ than the ‘thing’ you knew before. I guess the closest thing to it is running into an old high school friend. Hey, remember when we were the scum of the Earth, lower than shit, loitering on public property because the thought of sleeping was more terrifying than the thought of a miserable future? Yeah, well I work in an office now. So that’s over.
The girl at the store needed my phone’s PIN in order to do the data transfer, and when I told her I got an, “Oh. Isn’t that easy to guess?” I mean it’s a combination of four digits so I guess it’s as easy to guess as any other combination, but maybe it’s not normal to have a sentimental attachement to a number.
The pin is from an address. Specifically, it’s the place where everything fell apart.
For whatever reason I was adamant about having an all black room, and what was even stranger was that my parents were somehow okay with that. We ripped out the carpet and painted the entire room black. It was freezing cold, and dark, and it was wonderful. After we moved out, we needed to make it appear like we never left Baytown so I wouldn’t have to switch schools, so after school I would go into the empty house and sit in a literally pitch black room and listen to the Smashing Pumpkins for however long it took for dad to come pick me up.
I would occasionally drive by the old house, and wonder what they did to that room. The once pink exterior had been painted a dull, boring brown. Such boring people would never be able to appreciate such a perfect room. Thinking about it makes my heart sink.
That house was a wreck. My father used to tell me, “in the real world you can’t do shit like this.” I would say, isn’t this the real world for you? What’s happening right now is real, and you’re experiencing it on a different plane of reality than I am. I can tell you, now, as a card carrying member of the ‘real world’ the entire concept is bullshit. All it is is people not realizing how small they are, which is a puzzle I solved the first time I ever tried ordering food from a restaurant by myself and was completely ignored for half an hour, while people shoved me out of the way and looked down from their gargantuan adult figures at an 8 year old boy saying, ‘your world is fake.’
Spoilers: everything starts to cost money. Everything you buy has a way of squeezing more money out of you. Paying money costs you money. If you want to prepare for the real world, there is no better way than to learn to love ramen and drank.
The girl that sold me my phone asked me, “You used to work here? I don’t remember your face.” Yeah, well, I’m from a different world I guess.
he hit her with that level 3 ankle breaker
got a wii-u