This past weekend I was in Canada for a regatta. Having a certain someone I like to talk to everyday, I dug out an old calling card for the trip to avoid crazy international phone rates. When we reached the hotel, I immediately opened the customer manual and tried to figure out how to use this strange piece of paper from the olden days with a gazillion numbers on it. After about 10 minutes of wrong numbers (and realizing the hotels manual was WRONG on how to use a calling card) I figured it out myself, like a grown up.
During that 10 minutes of failure, I realized that I was strangely intrigued dialing on this old cord phone. The buttons were bigger than a tic tac, making them much easier to press. My overworked from texting thumb got a break, and there was an incredibly satisfying “ding” when I hung up which all took me back about 12 years. I mean, like, how 90’s?!
For the 4 days I was up North, I challenged myself to dial faster and faster each time, excluding my thumb from the festivities. There were a total of 36 numbers to dial to make any call, and in order to get faster I began to memorize the numbers. By the last day I could successfully dial through the full 36 numbers without having to pause for the recorded operators “press 1 for english”.
After crossing the border, I turned my good ol’ blackberry back on and returned my thumbs to their normal duties. Though not having to dial 36 numbers everytime I want to make a call is a relief, I am debating the purchase of a corded phone in my future. Maybe one like this:
This post will have a part II: the phones of my life. Another day though.