After three weeks of dating, Jessica had finally reached her limit with the endless back-and-forth involved in coordinating plans through my answering service. “Percival,” she had declared the previous evening, her tone light but pointed, “if you can master a double Windsor knot and recite Chaucer, you can learn to use a phone.”
I had protested, of course. Tradition, I argued, demanded dignity, and there was little dignified about clinging to a glowing rectangle that demanded constant attention. But Jessica, ever practical and persistent, had recruited reinforcements, ironically by interrupting a call Aunt Beatrice who had called to arrange our next tea. Aunt Beatrice, unshockingly, had sided with her.
“I think she’s right, Percy,” Beatrice had said matter-of-factly. “It’s not the 1950s anymore, dear. Even the butcher takes orders by text.”
And so, here I was, standing at the threshold of a mobile phone store, staring into its fluorescent lit abyss like a condemned man. Jessica stood at my side, practically glowing with satisfaction.
“Come on, Percival,” she said, nudging my arm. “It’s just a phone store. Not the gates of Mordor.”
“You’ll forgive me if I struggle to see the distinction,” I replied, straightening my tie. “This entire enterprise feels unnecessarily convoluted. There are too many… options.”
“That’s why I’m here,” she said, looping her arm through mine and guiding me forward. “Consider me your guide to the twenty-first century.”
The store was a cacophony of glowing screens, brightly colored banners boasting incomprehensible phrases like “Ultimate Pro+” and “Unlimited 5G SuperFast Deals.” Customers milled about, arguing with clerks or tapping frantically on demo phones as though their lives depended on it.
A young man behind the counter greeted us with a grin so wide it bordered on unnerving. “Good afternoon! How can I help you today?”
Jessica stepped forward, taking charge. “My friend here needs a smartphone.”
“Friend?” I echoed, arching a brow at her. “Is that the term we’re using now?”
She smirked. “Fine. My gentleman friend here needs a smartphone.”
The clerk’s grin widened. “Great! Are we looking for something basic, or do you want one of the newer models? We’ve got the Galaxy Ultimate Pro Max 5G+ on sale right now.”
I blinked. “The… what?”
“The Galaxy Ultimate Pro Max 5G+,” he repeated, as though the name clarified anything.
Jessica leaned closer, whispering, “Just let him explain, Percy. This is his moment.”
The clerk launched into a monologue about megapixels, refresh rates, and processors, which only served to deepen my suspicions about modern technology. “It’s got a 6.7-inch AMOLED display, a 120Hz refresh rate, and a triple-lens camera system. And with 5G, you’ll get lightning-fast internet speeds.”
I turned to Jessica. “Is any of that remotely comprehensible to you?”
She grinned. “It means it’s shiny and fast. But you don’t need all that. Just something functional.”
“Exactly,” I said, addressing the clerk. “I require none of these fripperies. I only need to make and receive calls.”
“Well,” the clerk said, looking momentarily deflated, “we do have some simpler models. But most people find that smartphones are indispensable these days—for texting, navigating, taking photos—”
I interrupted with a wave of my hand. “I have no need for texting or navigating. And as for photographs, I’m not an aspiring artist.”
Jessica laughed softly, patting my arm. “It’s standard on all smartphones, Percy. Just focus on what you do need.”
“And what I need,” I said, pointing at the clerk, “is a device that facilitates communication. Nothing more.”
The clerk exchanged a look with Jessica, as though they were partners in some private joke. “Got it. Something simple. Let me grab a few options.”
While he bustled off, Jessica turned to me, her eyes twinkling. “You know, you could’ve made this so much easier if you’d just gotten one weeks ago.”
“Ah, but then we wouldn’t have had the pleasure of this adventure,” I replied dryly. “Nor the joy of navigating the baffling language of the modern age.”
She rolled her eyes, but her smile softened. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
The clerk returned, presenting a sleek black rectangle. “This is the HTC U23. It’s user-friendly, good for calls, and has a decent screen size for, uh, readable fonts.”
Jessica stifled a laugh. “Readable fonts. Perfect.”
I examined the device warily. Its unnerving smoothness suggested it might slip through one’s fingers with the slightest provocation. “And this will fulfill my requirements?”
“Absolutely,” the clerk said. “Plus, it comes with a basic plan. Unlimited talk and text, and enough data for… whatever you might need.”
“Unlimited talk and text,” I echoed. “What could one possibly require ‘unlimited’ of?”
Jessica stepped in. “It just means you can call and message as much as you want. No limits. And the data is for apps—like maps, email, or… you know, contacting me.”
She said it casually, but there was a spark in her tone, a subtle flirtation that made my pulse quicken. I cleared my throat. “Well, I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you further. Very well.”
The clerk nodded, launching into a spiel about data plans and insurance. I tuned out most of it, trusting Jessica to interject where necessary. By the time we emerged from the store, I felt both triumphant and utterly drained.
Jessica looped her arm through mine as we walked down the street. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”
“It was an ordeal,” I replied, tucking the phone into my pocket. “But if it means fewer scheduling mishaps, I suppose it was worth it.”
She tilted her head, her lips curving into a mischievous smile. “And now, you can call me anytime.”
I glanced at her, catching the suggestion in her tone. “I shall endeavor not to abuse the privilege.”
She laughed, her warmth cutting through the chill of the evening air. “Just try not to butt-dial me, okay?”
“Jessica,” I said with mock indignation, “you wound me. I am nothing if not precise.”
“Well,” she teased, “let’s see if that precision extends to texting. Don’t make me regret dragging you into the twenty-first century.”
I allowed myself a small smile. For all its frustrations, this strange device held a certain promise—a connection to Jessica that, I suspected, was well worth the effort.