Do you remember me? Do you remember the way you used to hold me? The way you used to make me feel needed? The way you used to pay $49.99 a month to whisper sweet nothings into my ear for 600 minutes plus 50 whenever minutes? Do you remember me, your Nokia 3310?
Incase you can’t recall, it was a time before texts. It was a time before cameras, video, and a time before color screens. A black and white world. Simple. You eat a tiny square and the snake grows one tiny square longer. No Temple Run. No Angry Birds. No 4 inch screens to play it all on. It was as cut and dry as an 8-bit ringtone. You needed me and I needed you.
I still remember how it happened, too. Don’t you? In the beginning the communication was great. We both wanted it. And that’s how it works. It’s mutual. But then little by little you grew distant. The broken phone calls. The “I-can’t-hear-yous”. The “we’re-breaking-ups,” as if the miscommunication was my fault. Sure, you caught me roaming that one summer we left the service area, but in hind-sight it’s so easy to see it was just the provider (ha! Isn’t that always how it goes?).
But soon enough the broken calls became less and less. You wanted something that “worked”. And just like that you cast me aside. Me. Your go-to-gal. Your best friend. Your Nokia 3310! You cast me aside and you made me feel unwanted—helpless and out of service. Until one day you came home with someone else. Something else. The Motorola Razr.
Sure, you felt that initial guilt. The detachment and fear of something new. After all, you were so used to my push keyboard and bulky frame. I mean, why would you want something else? But you did. She was thin and I was not. She was sleek. A new slender design. And of course, she could flip. And you liked that, no matter what you said. You knew you liked it. I knew you liked it. And it didn’t make anything any easier.
Jokes on her though, right? Because how long did that one last? Twelve? Eighteen months? And what did you say it was? More miscommunication? Not enough space? Or was it just a taste for something new? Pretty soon you cast aside Ol’ Razr to satiate your hunger with something sweeter. The LG Chocolate KG800. Although, that didn’t last too long either. Remind me. What came next? Was it the BlackBerry? Or was it the BlackBerry Storm? The Bold? The Curve 8900? And at what point did you finally realize a new adjective wouldn’t fix that dying relationship?
And now for the new girl. I said I wouldn’t, but I can’t resist. The way you flaunt her around. Show her off. Touch her. Grope her. Finger her screen. What’s her name? Sophie? Jaclyn? iPhone 5s? And I think we all know what the “s” stands for. You can’t even go to the bathroom without her! You two are inseparable! And it makes me sick. You make me sick. Because you know what? It’s only a matter of time and we both know it. It’s not the miscommunication. It’s not the storage space, the service provider or whatever else you’ve blamed it on. No, it’s you. It’s you and your undying need to feed from the hand of consumerist America. And for that I pity you.
So here I sit. Covered in dust. Biding my time between a sack of soggy Pogs and a lost container of Crazy Bones. Idle. Silently waiting for the call of opportunity. And when opportunity finally rings, who will pick up? Will it be the sleek design of the Motorola Razr? How about the sweet new Chocolate? One of the many forgotten BlackBerrys? The iPhone with her brittle glass exterior? Or will it be the one who was built to last? The one who once reigned as queen of the cell phones. The one you left for dead. Me. Your Nokia 3310.
These stock photos are supposed to capture the kind of anger you can only feel when you fight with someone you deeply love. Instead they depict people with soulless eyes and nonsense props existing in a white void. You get the impression that these people have never been in a fight before, which may be okay if that means more of these wonderfully weird stock photos.
Remember, your Netflix account is a beautiful and special thing that shouldn’t be given out to just anyone.
Start Reading - Losing Netflix Access Is Like Getting an STD
1. Turn Into A Wolf And Howl At Them
A classic move. The “howling” lets the lady know that her physical appearance is pleasing to you, while your new wolf head shows her that you have a WILD SIDE and are also now a wolf.
2. Make An Old Timey “AAAAWOOOOOGAHHH!!!!” Car Horn Noise
What’s that old expression about “Women and Cars”? I don’t know. There may not be one. But if there were, it’d probably be something along the lines of “Women love old timey car horn noises and will insta-date any living thing that produces them.”
3. Have Your Heart Beat Super Loudly Out Of Your Chest
The name of the game is “subtlety,” and there’s nothing more subtle than having your heart leap out of your chest and make a thumping noise in the direction of your potential romantic interest. She won’t know what that pounding, heart-shaped object under your shirt is. A box of chocolates? Your literal heart?? Now you’ve got so much intrigue you’re literally James Bond.
Finish reading 7 Awesome Pickup Lines I Learned From Cartoons
And he thought signing up for Match.com was rock bottom.
The world look a little different after you’ve been dumped.
Finish reading What the World Looks Like After Your Bad Breakup
(Source: College Humor)
Looking for that special someone? Give up already.
Move over strippers, there’s a new game in town.
(Source: College Humor)
You’re an 88% match and you both 100% hate this conversation.