The Phone Call

It's been a long time since I've written any fiction, and even longer since I've put any of it online. At any rate, here goes some short fiction...

 

I hung up the phone with disgust. The call had not gone well, and I wasn't in a good mood to begin with. I was pissed off that they'd screwed up again. I was pissed off that I had to make the call because of the screw up. Mostly, now that the call was done, I was pissed off at cell phones.

There was something satisfying about slamming an old-fashioned receiver down into its cradle at the end of an argument, just as your adversary was about to hang up. It had always made me feel better. Now that Ma Bell had eaten her children and suddenly died of indigestion, that was no longer an option.

Cell phones. Everyone had to use these cheap-ass cell phones. I was really starting to loath them. What were you going to do? Dramatically slam the "Off" button?

After a quick trip through a local store, I flipped open my phone and calmly pressed redial. As soon as Alan answered, I let off the air horn I had just purchased and then calmly pressed the "Off" button.
Now that I was satisfied that there would be no mistaking my feelings on the matter, I smiled inwardly. It wasn't quite the same satisfaction, but it still felt good.