It’s a strange inexplicable fear that has come over me because my little cell phone has become non functional and it seems that whatever I or verizon does has no power to fix it so that the checking calling checking answering looking clicking touching caressing the thing is not a part of my day minute every second all the time thing.
I went to a verizon store in Santa Fe and had the entire thing under control. Really I did. After trying every trick in the book to make the phone work, it was decided to ship me a new phone. Although, with all good intentions, I tried and I think he tried to have the phone shipped overnight to Taos and NOT New Jersey… But there was this friend of his, and this cool dog, and we all were petting the huge mastiff head of this dog, and the verizon salesman’s friend kinda reminded me of a Mexican Sarge Russell, so I kind felt a little softened to him and pet his dog.. Although his friend would not stop talking to him so I’m sure that he fucked something up in the filling out the shipping part of the transaction. All my good intentions totally thrown to the wind because all he really wanted to do was hang out with his friends dog in the parking lot instead of double checking that the mailing address was Taos and not New Jersey.
Verizon seemed to think my replacement phone should be sent to New Jersey even after all that fucking micro managing.
This is probably a good thing. That man with the Italian Mastiff was a Shaman. What else could possibly be the explanation. Fucking with my micro managing, Right there In the verizon store. Distracting the salesman just enough to fuck up my phone shipment.
Well, I guess I’m in New Mexico. There’s a little bit of magic here.
If I still smoked, I would retain the illusion of having diffused the stress. A little friend.