ring...ring...ring...

Just the other night I was talking to a very dear friend, and I mentioned that not only did I not own a cell phone, but that I did not wish to own a cell phone. I now own a cell phone. The hubby bought it for me. He was trying to do a nice thing, getting me the phone so I could call him on my breaks at work, and keep in touch while I am out and about living my very busy life. The thing is, part of why I live such a busy life, is that I try to get away from people. Sometimes, I just do not want to be bothered by everyone else's problems. Cell phone ownership is like asking people to call you for every little tiny bump they encounter. Hell, a home phone seems to be an open invitation to call me at any time day or night to some people. Now there are some people that I would not mind if they called me fifty times a day, however my phone rang at four forty five this morning, and the person on the other end of the line was not one of those people. It was a friend of mine, who as of late, has become extremely self centered, and who has started playing the one up game. What is the one up game you may ask. Well, it goes something like this..."I have had a very bad day at work" I say, "Yeah, well I have had a horrible week" says she. "I think I am a little hungry" say I, "I haven't eaten in three days." says she. "I am coming down with a cold" I say, "I have pneumonia and I think I am going to die" she replies. Anyway, you get the point. So imagine my joy at being awakened less than an hour after FINALLY falling asleep because.. get this.. she had a flat tire. In her freaking driveway. Now I ask you, what the hell am I supposed to do about that at four forty five in the damned morning? Apparently I was supposed to go hold her hand while we looked at the flat tire together. Or better yet, perhaps she thought I would come jack up her car, take off her tire, and put a new one on. Well I could have..I am talented like that. But, keep in mind, that I was supposed to apparently shit out said new tire, because she wasn't smart enough to buy a spare. You know, people like her give women a bad name. I am not saying that I am a mechanic with awe inspiring abilities, and I do not even do my own tune ups or oil changes, but I do know how to change a tire (And for the record ladies, it does not involve standing helplessly by your car crying until a man stops to do it for you.) I know how to check my fluid levels, and add said fluids as needed. I know how to check my tire pressure. I can jump start my own car. I can change the fuses. I can change the windshield wipers. I even once changed the alternator, including putting on the serpentine belt, thank you very much. (Oh hell, maybe I am awe inspiring.) I just do not have any clue what she expected me to do about her flat. I could have offered her my can of fix-a-flat that I keep in MY car for such emergencies, but I was a bit pissed at her not thinking about the fact that she was calling me at FOUR FORTY FIVE IN THE MORNING! I am just glad I have not given her my cell phone number, because if she had called me on the cell, I may have had to get angry. That's all, Goodnight.