Have I been wrong all this time? (Spoiler: No. Maybe, a little.)

I’ve always kind of hated text speak. ‘m8’? What the fuck? How hard is it to type ‘mate’? Useless cretins. I’ve only ever used ‘lol’ twice, and both times it was sarcastic for things that were decidedly unfunny. Emojis and all the associated pictures that you can add to your messages feel like an evolution of that text speak that annoys me so I don’t use them. I never mind it when other people use them, but because text speak always annoyed me, I’ve always refused to use them myself. They say a picture paints a thousand words. Well, give me the thousand words any day. Words can make you understood if you use them correctly. Words have immense power. Power to uplift, power to crush. Power to deceive (just ask most of the UK press).

I’ve tried at times to describe, a little, what it means to me to have Rach in my life, and how I might have turned out without her in older blog entries. Most people know a little about how it feels to be in love. About how having someone there to support, share and experience with makes everything make a little bit more sense. And because most of you know, I’ll not waste time trying to explain how she fills up my heart and soul with a warm glow every day, or how literally everything would be worse without her.

Instead I’ll come to the point (such as it is). She uses smiley faces, colourful heart pictures and other types of emojis in her texts to me. When she affectionately calls me a dork because I have to finish on the hour when doing overtime, not half-past or quarter-to, followed by a smiling face, or a kissing face and some hearts, it genuinely makes my day. I grin and have that little floating-on-air moment you have when you get confirmation that someone you love loves you in return. And I got it because of the emojis I refuse to use.

Still not doing text-speak. Always ‘you are’, or ‘you’re’, never ‘ure’. But knowing now how they can sometimes brighten a day, I may occasionally start using a picture or two. To be honest, the thumbs up in Skype is also a pretty useful thing when you’ve got nothing else to say, but saying nothing feels a little rude. So, maybe the occasional picture along with the words isn’t so bad after all.

A lunch break spent in Hell.

Recently my cheap old mobile phone gave up the ghost, leaving me with the unpleasant prospect of buying a new one. The thing is, I hate mobile phones. Hate them. I hate the idea that I can never be truly out of reach (and I know I can just switch it off, but that's not the point), I hate the way texting has eroded the general populations ability to correctly type out even the simplest of sentences properly without resorting to switching the word 'to' to the number '2', and I hate the way that they're not only phones anymore, they're cameras, camcorders, MP3 players and tiny Internet providers, all in one. I very specifically make a point of owning a separate camera, MP3 player etc., so I just want a phone to use for calling people. Is that too much to ask? iPhone, my arse. If this wasn't enough, I hate mobile phone shops. It's never enough to just go in and get a relatively cheap pay as you go phone. I've always got to go through the same conversation with whatever dickhead is trying to sell to me about how it might be cheaper for me to get a contract. Listen very carefully. I don't fucking want a contract. That's why I haven't asked you for one. It is, in fact, why I specifically asked you for pay as you go.

So, resigned to the fact that I needed to get it over with, I head off in to town on my lunch break to get me a new phone. I get up to 2 hours (a benefit of flexi-time), so that should be plenty of time to get a new phone and eat lunch. In town, I soon find that there are about a million different phone shops, but the vast majority are for specific networks. Except the network I'm on. After a few minutes, I manage to find a Phones4U. I stand outside, looking at the text-speak logo (it's FOR YOU, you bunch of cockends!), attempting to swallow my instant hatred of the shop and all inside. I take a deep breath and cross the threshold. I take a straight path to the pay as you go display and start looking at the phones. At first, the only thing I look at is the price. There are some for under a fiver, but even I recognise that they look utter shit. I will not go over £50, however, not for a phone. I finally pick one that will do and I get approached. After I explain that I don't want any of the extra shite he's offering me, he tells me to hold on while he gets the phone. 10 minutes pass by. I'm conscious of the passing of my lunch break, like fine sand through my fingers. I see my guy wandering round at the back of the shop, looking lost. He's moving from desk to desk. He finally comes back, muttering that he's just looking for the keys to the cupboard, he won't be a minute. You've already been more than 10 I point out, in my head. Soon after, he finds the keys, only to open the cupboard and tell me they are out of stock. Have a look, see if there's another one I like, he says. I smile and nod politely before walking out of the store, ready to kill someone. Or at least someones phone.

By now, with all the wandering and choosing and waiting, almost half of my lunch break is up. I continue to search until I find a Carphone Warehouse. I feel slightly more confident here, as I dimly remember that this is where I got my previous phone. Plus, they can't be as bad as Cunts4U. As before, I head to the pay as you go section, to find a nice display area with a leaflet showing the phones available and their prices. I spend some time looking, before settling on one phone costing £30. The shop is empty other than me, with two staff, but I still have to walk up to the counter and stand there like a lemon before either one of them engages with me. While at the counter, I discover that there is a minimum top up of £10 for every phone. This is annoying, especially as Phones4U didn't have such measures in place. However, by now I just want to get the whole ordeal over with, so I acquiesce. The staff member offers me a way to save money - if I buy the phone on a different network, it will be £10 cheaper, and then I can just put my existing sim card in when I get home. For a while, I'm quite pleased.

The guy needs to take a few details - name, address, that kind of stuff. He types in the details I provide. Then he asks again. Then he looks confused at his screen and asks again. This goes on for what must have been 10 minutes or more, with much scratching of head and consulting with the other staff member. Surely he knows what to do when selling one of the phones I think to myself. It is a phone shop, after all. I don't think it's unreasonable to assume he knows how to sell a phone. Anyway, progress is finally made until he points out that on this phone the minimum top up is £20. It's probably because the phone is only £20, he informs me. So what was the point of offering me the phone £10 cheaper on a different network? I now have £20 on a sim I won't even use! The remaining time on my lunch break is now rapidly running out, and I just want to get out before I leap over the counter and pummel his stupid, empty face. With another 10 minutes or so of trying to put through a simple fucking sale, I finally leave, putting my new phone in my bag. I now have to rush to get back to work, and I will have to miss my lunch.

The only possible conclusion I can draw from this is that mobile phone shop assistants must be the dumbest bastards on this Earth. Apart from possibly HMV staff, but that's a whole different story...