My Phone Calls The Shots

I forget my brain on Monday. I mean my phone. Maybe it was the rush. I was trying to juggle many things, including an out-of-town destination with a complicated bus route.

I take the bus because I want peace, no traffic lights turning red on me, road closures for summer maintenance, parking lots that are offline when I’m already in the parking area and no road rage.

It was too late to rush back to the house to collect the phone, so I soldiered on. After all, I won’t miss the phone clock because I live in a country where there are clocks everywhere: the railway station, bus stop electronic timetable, parking meter clocks, bank clocks, you name it.

I couldn’t find them on Monday and I needed them to catch a bus then rush to connecting buses. The bus stop electronic timetable was offline, just a series of dots on the screen.

What a day! I couldn’t think on my feet. For a long time, l let my phone do the thinking. I’m brain dead. It is brainy. I finally made it to the out-of-town destination and successfully conducted my business.

Next thing was catching a bus back. No problem. I have the bus codes for different routes in my phone. Then I remembered. I forgot it at home. When did this happen? When did I surrender my whole life to an electronic device that cannot talk?

Oh! Yes it does. That is why you don’t know your dad’s, daughter’s, doctor’s, mechanic’s or neighbor’s  cell number, by heart.

By: Nonqaba waka Msimang.