Of all the retail experiences,
In all the shops,
In all the towns,
In all of my life,
The phone shop was the...
…well, the very worst.
It's a phone!
And it was a gift!
To bring some happiness.
Some pleasure,
Some joy—a kindly act.
But how it was buried in tension,
And anxiety,
And smashed up on criticism,
And reticence,
And imagined confusion.
And so it was sucked down into a whirlpool of irrelevancies and concerns.
And it disappeared from view, that kindly given gift, as it was consumed inside the swirling vortex of suffocating, neurotic anxiety.
It's a fucking phone!
A nation's fate does not hang upon it!
We will not die because it has the wrong cover.
We will not suffer from cancer for months on end because it does not have unlimited call time.
It's a phone!
It was a gift!
And it has ruined it all.
