Annie Gets a Gadget

By Sue Lovett

"You haven't got one?" I could tell he was shocked.

I shook my head apologetically, flashing him an embarrassed smile.

"That's a goner, that is." He kicked the flat tyre with his steel capped toe. I'd noticed the white van in my rear view mirror and when my tyre burst, he'd over-taken, pulled up onto the kerb and jumped out of the van to help. It was the young lad from the builder's merchants at the top of our road. He'd been so nice to stop, but now he was making me feel a bit of a ninny. I had the feeling this wasn't going to be a good day.

"I'll get my husband" I said. He raised his eyebrows. "We only live round the corner" I went on, trying to appear in control of the situation. "The car will be fine here; it's not obstructing the road at all."

"Look, use mine." He pulled his mobile out of his jacket pocket and passed it to me.

"Thank you. You've been ever so kind."

He gave a little shrug. "Don't know anyone that hasn't got a mobile." He mumbled. "Even me Gran's got a mobile."

Feeling foolish, I blurted ''I sort of never got round to getting one." I could imagine him telling his mates "silly 0l' bat didn't even have a phone!"

Thankfully Tom answered straight away. "It's me, Love. I've got a puncture. Would you come and get me? I'm only in Oak Road, opposite the Post Office."

I bade a final farewell and thank you to the white van lad and moments later Tom
arrived. He had the spare wheel fitted onto my trusty old Fiesta in no time. Then after wiping his hands on an old rag he stood square in front of me, placing his hands on my shoulders, as he always does when he's about to make a pronouncement.

"Right, that's it Annie." Tom was putting his foot down. "Before we do anything else, you're coming with me down the High Street. We're gonna get you a bloomin' phone!"

I couldn't argue. Even a technophobe like me could see the benefits of having a mobile in situations like these. I hadn't succumbed to getting one, because trying to understand anything other than the most basic form of gadgetry leaves me befuddled, pushing my patience to the point of 'can't be botheredness'. I'm the girl who believed the i-pod to be the part of the body that houses the eye.

Tom, of course, loves all that stuff; computers, digital this, electronic that and he loves anything that's remotely remote control. When the washing machine packed up, he insisted we pay an extra sixty quid to get a replacement that was advertised as 'intelligent'. To me, an intelligent washing machine is someone who picks the dirty laundry up on Monday and returns it clean and pressed by Wednesday night.

But then I suppose we're just different in that way, Tom and me. For me, technology is an unremitting annoyance in life, rather like bikini waxing and fungal nail infections, that I continually struggle to stay in control of. Anyhow, I've got far too many things to do and think about than the finer functions of a digibox or some such gizmo.

"I just want something basic" I stressed to Tom, who was in high-tech heaven talking modes, menus and networks with the chap in the shop. "Really Tom, if it's too complicated, I won't understand it. I won't use it."

"I know Love. I think this is a good one, nice and simple. Pay as you go. It's a great model to start off with. We'll have you texting by the end of the week. Look, it's even got a camera!"

We returned home with my pocket sized mobile in a box that could have comfortably housed a pair of shoes. I realised on unpacking my new little treasure, that the box had to be that big to fit in the instruction manual; written in 47 different languages. Deciding that the most relevant section for me to digest was probably the Japanese one, I cast the manual into the recycling bin.

Tom attached a little wire and plugged the phone into the wall socket.

''Now just leave it," he explained. "It has to charge for twenty four hours, so you won't be able to play with it until tomorrow."

Like I'm itching to I thought.

There it sat on the coffee table, its' little green light winking, letting me know it had the measure of me. Just as a dog senses fear in a non dog lover, it had picked up on my negative vibes. Its electronic eye menacingly followed me, wherever I moved about the room, knowing it already had the upper hand.

The following day I resolved not to be so silly and to do just what Tom had suggested. I'd have a little play and master my new toy. I'd give Tom a call. He'd be so impressed. I have to admit I did get into a bit of a sweat, but I wasn't going to give up. I soldiered on, casting aside my Nokia nervosa, determined to fit into this electronic World, the alternative being outcast as one of life's unconnected.

I didn't phone Tom. Not right away. I decided to take the car down to the garage and get the tyre changed. I thought I'd give Tom a call then, from my new mobile and tell him the job had been done. That would knock his socks off.

A couple of miles up the road I spotted a white van, pulled over awkwardly. Sitting on the kerb was the lad from the builder's merchants. He didn't look very happy. I parked the car in front of the van and made my way over to him.

"Everything all right?" I asked.

"Flippin' engine's died!" He huffed.

"Oh dear. Is someone coming to get you?"

"I'm hopin' someone'll come for me soon. Can't ring 'em, me flippin' phone's got no battery."

"Oh dear me. You want to get yourself one of those in car chargers." I advised, and feeling rather triumphant, I pulled my mobile out of my pocket and said, "Here, would you like to use mine?"

Highly Commended - Annie Gets a Gadget by Sue Lovett