Ventura, CA, 02/20 — at approximately 12:45 pm today, a call came into the newsroom, but this reporter was unable to fish the phone out of her purse in time. big damn mess, that purse. when the subsequent voicemail was checked, it became urgently clear that a disaster of epic proportions was in the making. the muffled but frantic voice on the recording was none other than your mild mannered correspondent’s teenage daughter, who had lost her cell phone.
so, lacking a phone booth, she ducked into the storage closet & emerged, seconds later, as SuperMom. with the mad energy of PMS coursing through her veins, she bounded out the door for the closest Radio Shack, only to be thwarted by her arch-nemesis, Mahmoud the Bored Clerk, who resisted her superpowers with a shrug & ?well, i can give you five bucks off on the reconditioned one, but that’s all.? SuperMom would have crushed the vile fiend but she was in a hurry, ok?
back to the office to regroup, knowing that there would be no cheap way out. several phonecalls revealed that the only real solution to the problem was to purchase another phone, which would actually cost less than the early cancellation fee to disconnect the service & reconnect at a later date. super problem: any price was too high. way, way too high.
just in the nick of time, the boss wanders back into the office, so SuperMom resorts to the only proven superpower she had left in her arsenal, the X-ray Tears of Distress. the boss, helpless to resist, offers the necessary financial assistance, and SuperMom is off to the Sprint store where she confronts the kryptonite of indecision. two similar, different, identically priced phones. one the same model as the poor little lost phone, one a newer and smaller model. Senior Sales Associate Todd steadfastly refused to make up SuperMom’s mind for her, so finally, after calling him back as he headed off for the storeroom no less than twice, she settles on the familiar phone, the same sparkly blue perfect teenage phone that inspired the initial gift-giving. just because it’s not the newest model, doesn’t make it any less perfect.
SuperMom whips out the Amazing Debit Card, secure in the knowledge that it takes a day or so to process, plenty of time to cover the transaction. SuperMom plays bank float like a fine instrument. she returns to the office, trimumphant, & plugs in the sparkly new phone.
later, sparkly phone rings. mild mannered reporter picks up. disappointed daughter’s voice says, ?oh, i dialed your phone?. ?no, you dialed yours? is the reply, & the teenager squeaks the same squeak of joy she squeaked when first presented with the marvelousness that is a perfect teenage girl cell-phone. removing her glasses & for a moment nearly revealing her dual identity, SuperMom smiles contentedly.