IPHONE

One man's terrifying relationship with technology.

I resisted, and then I resisted some more, but finally I gave in and bought an iPhone. For years, I would only buy the cheapest cellular phones available. My last one had a camera, which I didn’t want, however, that was the most trimmed down cell phone I could purchase. All I wanted was to send and receive phone calls without any bells or whistles.

 

Most of my friends had iPhones and were constantly showing me all the different “apps” that were available for them. At first, I was too embarrassed to ask and had no idea what an “app” was. Finally, I came to the realization that it meant application. Why didn’t they just say that? iPhones were becoming a barrier between my friends and me. Rather than making communication easier, it was making it more difficult, especially when I was in the same room as people with whom I wanted to communicate. They were endlessly playing with their phones, or talking with someone instead of talking to me! This constant intrusion by the phone made me convinced that I would never own one. I hated them.

 

As time wore on, I was incessantly bombarded by the world of advertising explaining all the wonders of the iPhone, and how it would improve the quality of my life. Resisting became even more difficult after my wife and daughter, despite my objections, succumbed and bought iPhones and immediately came under their spell. Now I was even more isolated from my friends, and at this point my family too! My commitment to resist being consumed by the latest miracle of technology was beginning to erode.

 

I was pressured from all sides, friends, family and the world at large, to buy an iPhone. The straw that broke the camel’s back was a sale on iPhones. How could anyone in their right mind pass up on such a deal? I didn’t have a chance of overcoming the pressures to buy, purchase, acquire, obtain, steal, get and Iphone. So out came the credit card, and in my pocket went the phone. I was now part of the pack, apps and all, but I still was not comfortable with it. Slowly, I started learning to use all the marvels of my new piece of technology.  I also began ignoring the people I was with in favor of the people that were someplace else.

 

One day, I noticed a message on my Iphone’s screen that confused me a bit. It said, “Do as I say.” What was that all about? I didn’t spend a lot of time thinking about it. I just figured it was some glitch, a burp in the microprocessor. Slipping the phone back in my pocket, I went on about my business not giving it another thought. About a week later it happened again with the same weird message. Now that was getting a bit strange. I went to the Apple Store and asked one of the geeks there what was going on with the phone. He didn’t have a clue, and looked at me like my phone didn’t have a screw loose, but I did. A bit disgruntled, I slipped the device back into my pocket and left the store thinking that this was getting seriously weird.

 

Things just rolled on as normal for a while, and I learned a few more apps and continued to be more interested in the people on the phone rather than the people I was with. Then again it happened. The message, “Do as I say.” This certainly made me feel creepy, and the hair on the back of my neck stood up. I began to think maybe I was seeing things, but I felt too embarrassed to talk to anyone about it. So I just kept it to myself. Most people at this point would likely have thrown the phone away, but for some unknown reason, I hung on to it, and I had a growing loyalty towards what or who was sending me the messages.

 

Time again passed with nothing unusual happening accept an increasing allegiance toward this strange piece of electronics in my pocket. The next message I received was a direct order. It said simply, “Go to the corner of Second Ave. and C Street and push over the trashcan there.”  This was getting absurd, but I had an overwhelming compulsion to do what the text message said. I had this bizarre loyalty to my iPhone, and for whatever reason, I was going to do what it requested, or more accurately ordered! After all, what was the big deal about pushing over a trash can?

 

About an hour later, I found myself at the corner of 2nd and C, and sure enough, there was a trash can full to the top with all matter of garbage. Feeling rather foolish, I was about to turn away and go home. Something stopped me, not physically, just a feeling. I looked around and saw no one in the immediate area, so I quickly pushed over the trashcan and scurried off down the sidewalk. A peculiar urge came over me to look at my cell phone. On the screen, it said, “Good boy.” Surprisingly, I was not shocked to see this, and rather pleased with myself for accomplishing the mission I was sent out to achieve, and then was congratulated! 

 

In some outlandish way, I was looking forward to my next message, and continually kept and ear out for a signal, and frequently checked the screen to see if I had missed hearing a beep. Many days went by without a word, and the influence of the “Messenger” seemed to be receding, but then again it happened. This time, the message was, “Go to the entrance of the Target store and kiss the first woman that comes out on the lips.” This was becoming a bit dicey, and I was inclined to ignore the order. I put the phone back in my pocket and told myself I wasn’t going to do it. That night I tossed and turned in bed, going over and over in my mind what the Messenger had told me to do. By morning, I had convinced myself I was going to go through with it come hell or high water.

 

Later that day, I found myself in front of the Target store waiting by the main entrance, just as I had been told to do. The first person I saw come out of the door was an elderly gentleman accompanied by a small boy. Inside the door, I could see two women approaching the exit, both were holding bags of purchases. My orders were to kiss the first woman out of the door on the lips. As she came out, I could see she was rather attractive and had on a deep red lipstick. Quickly, I approached her and gave her a big kiss right on her lips. She screamed, dropped her packages, and after that, I don’t know, because I turned and made a mad dash down the street with the sound of people yelling at me from behind. I turned and looked. I was in the clear. I wiped the back of my hand across my mouth and noticed it was covered with red lipstick.

 

My hands shaking with anxiety and excitement, I looked at my phone’s screen and again it said, “Good boy.” I felt a combination of exhilaration and guilt. I did feel sorry for the poor woman traumatized by what I had done, but the elation was overwhelming, and I felt a deep satisfaction for accomplishing what the Messenger had asked of me.

 

Once again, several days went by before my next mission was communicated to me. Now I was told to steal something of value from an electronics store. In the back of my mind was a gnawing thought: why was I being told to do things that were so asocial? Why not jobs that in some way benefited my community, why such evil intent? Was this iPhone in my pocket a tool of Satan? Despite my reservations, I headed for the Best Buy store with every intention of completing my task. My own beliefs of what was right and wrong seemed to be totally suppressed by whatever force was instructing me to do these things.

 

Inside the store, I headed for the camera section and noticed all the expensive cameras attached to the table by a wire cable. I picked up a few of them and nonchalantly inspected them. One I noticed was attached to a cable, but the cable appeared to be partially cut as if someone else had attempted to steal it and gave up. I grabbed the camera and gave it a strong jerk, not caring if I damaged the camera in the process. Happily, the cable broke and not the camera, so I quickly stuffed it under my jacket and made for the door. On the way out, I gave the employee at the door a friendly smile and he smiled back and told me to have a good day. I had done it, but I genuinely did not feel happy about it. There was just some strange influence the phone had over me that my will had no power to overcome. Again the message, “Good boy” appeared.

 

I was beginning to detest what I was doing, and feeling ashamed for doing it. My sleep had become fitful; my social life was nonexistent. I would only talk with people over my phone, and my only activities were messing with the apps available on my phone. The phone had become the center of my life, and the Messenger had become my master.

The Messenger’s next mission was light years beyond what I had been asked to do previously. The order put me into total emotional turmoil, l and struck at the core of who I was as a human being. I was to kill the manager of a Verizon store! Why Verizon? I believe the Messenger hated Verizon because it was in direct competition with the company that sponsored iPhone, AT&T. I was flat out not going to do it, and not only that, I was going to throw my iPhone into the nearest dumpster.

 

I felt nauseated and thoroughly drained of all my energy as I approached the dumpster, cell phone in hand. I had such a tight grip on it I thought it might break. As I reached over the side of the dumpster, my grip became even stronger. It was if my hand and arm were not a part of me. I simply could not let go of the phone. Tears of frustration came to my eyes as I put the phone back in my pocket and turned toward home. What was I to do?

 

I was losing weight, could not sleep, and I had not changed my clothes for several days. My family worried about me and didn’t know what was wrong. I was a wreck. At last, I decided that I must go through with the plan the Messenger had for me. I must kill the manager of my local Verizon store. Using a heavy pipe seemed like the best option. It wasn’t as noisy as a gun, and I could easily slip it up the sleeve of my jacket as I entered the store. I knew where the manager’s office was because Verizon was at one time the company I used.

 

First, I decided I better clean myself up and look a little more respectable. I showered and put on fresh clothes. My appetite was still at zero, and I was racked with anguish over what I was about to do, but at least I looked somewhat together on the outside. Next, I went to Home Depot and got myself an 18-inch long heavy, steel pipe. It fit nicely up my sleeve, and the weight of it cradled in the palm of my hand. The time had come, and I was outside of the Verizon store waiting for an opportunity when the least amount of customers were present. At the door, an employee greeted me and asked what my needs were. Obviously, I didn’t tell her I needed to kill the manager; instead, I said I was just looking at cell phones.

Far across the room, I could see that the manager’s door was slightly ajar, so I went and peeked inside. Sure enough, he was there at his desk with his back to the door, perfect. I slipped in and gently closed the door behind me. I let the pipe slip down my sleeve so I could get a strong grip on it, and then I came up behind the manager fully intending to crush his skull and kill him, as the Messenger ordered. With the pipe raised high above my head, a thought flashed through my mind: “what the hell am I doing here?” Immediately, my iPhone began to vibrate in my pocket, like it was angry. I continued to hesitate, as the poor manager was wholly engrossed with his computer. I had placed the phone ear buds in earlier, and now the phone was screaming at me, “Do it!” My mind was racing with confusion and panic. Then there was complete clarity and a calm came over me. I slowly raised the heavy steel pipe a few inches higher, while at the same time placing the iPhone on the manager’s desk. I brought the pipe down with all the force I could muster. The only sound I could hear in my ears was, “Don’t!” The iPhone exploded into millions of pieces, and the ear buds became silent. The store manager was in total shock as I turned tail and ran into the center of the store and out the front door.

 

I didn’t even look back this time. I just kept running, free at last from the tyranny of the damn Iphone! I felt nothing but joy. When I finally got home, I was exhausted and collapsed into my comfortable chair. My wife could hear me from the kitchen where she was cooking up some great smelling soup. She came up to me and first asked how my day went, and I told her that it was one of those days one likes to have behind them. Then with a quizzical look on her face she told me, “I got the strangest text message on my Iphone today.”

Reviews

[emmajoy]

What a brilliant, brilliant story!!! This for me, is your best - and in spite of not having any real dialogue! The tale flows like a steady river, no pauses yet no hurry, it travels the bends with strange humour, ' .. playing with their phones, or talking with someone instead of talking to me!' .. touch of surrealism as you prepare to murder the manager, ' .. First, I decided I better clean myself up and look a little more respectable. I showered and put on fresh clothes.' Found some warped excitement - will he, won't he? Was lured further and further into the writing.
For me the story built up, creating distinct scenes, I really wondered how it would draw to a conclusions, surely you wouldn't get into any deeper, hotter water. When you crushed your IPhone, for me that was the end of the story .. until .. your wife's words! Going to rate this high because it deserves it .. wonderful!

[roarke]

G O O D B O Y ....hahaahahahaahaha

yep threw mine off the mountain. It's a disease. It's a disconnect of generations like none before, except maybe the Neanderthal's and modern man... and you know what happened to the poor Neaderthal...

Crisp writing, fast paced action, obsessive threads dangling all over. I just hope the message is clear. lol. Thanks for doing yer part Z.

[Liza]

lol - iPhone has been marketed quite remarkably, I think you just resist the popularity

I love my Droid and yes - sometimes I have to rip myself away from it...but why blame the device for my tendencies to not resist? Wanting more and more information, more and more connection....but I understand the disconnection from real life just to escape a virtual one.

[Jean Alexandria Randall]

This was a great story. I have often wondered how many times people are slaves to the devices they carry around. I like this witty, telling story. Very enjoyable to read.