My longish-serving mobile phone is on its last legs. It wasn't massively expensive, but it wasn't dirt cheap either. I am annoyed, however, that something I have taken excellent care of is on the way out after 30 months of use.
Consequently, I have been spending a few days looking for a replacement and also experimenting with new ways to get some extra life out of it. This has been driving the Missus slightly crazy and she has practically begged me to 'just buy a new fucking phone'. I say 'begged'. It was more of a threat.
So we are in the pub on date night. I am about to show her something when my phone crashes. She goes to the loo. When she returns, I am still trying to restart it. She sits down and places her hands over mine.
But it is not a romantic gesture.
She then speaks in a calm and reasoned way.
But it is not a romantic gesture.
She then speaks in a calm and reasoned way.
'For the love of Christ. If you don't buy a new mobile, I am going to take that phone, beat you unconscious with it, then ram it up your arse sideways and let you bleed to death.'
Date nights aren't what they once were...
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