Tim has had a cell phone for a lot longer than I have. He carried Dylan's flip phone from high school for probably 10 years before it finally fritzed out and died. He briefly tried a phone that was not a flip phone and that was a disaster. He was constantly butt dialing people. Since we don't have a plan (we buy minutes every other month for him, because we really don't use a phone all that much...unless of course, you call your wife on a butt call, over and over, and over, well...)
In any case, Tim got quite fed up with his phone and switched back to a flip phone to avoid wasting the minutes. He can put it in his pocket and forget about it.
I've had a smart phone for about a year, an android, nothing fancy, but it is nice to have access to the computer when we are at the retirement property. I do not have a plan either. I buy a card on the 26th of every month. We spend about $45. a month on our phones, and that's good enough.
Anyways I was talking to Tim when suddenly in midsentence, his phone went dead. I tried to call him back, but got the message. I figured his phone was out of minutes and made a note to go out and get some and get them added. Except that I got sidetracked and forgot about it until his daughter called the house saying she couldn't get hold of her dad.
I texted Tim. "I think you're out of minutes." Tim does not like to text. His brother sums it up like this "Us H-------- boys can't spell. We have to take out our driver's license to make sure we spell our name right." It's true, too. Tim is a very intelligent man, don't get me wrong. He just doesn't like writing and spelling. So he never runs out of text minutes.
Anyways, I texted Tim to let him know that he was out of minutes. "Can you stop and pick some up on your way home?"
And his answer came. "Y."
A little befuddled, I texted back. "Because you're out of minutes and you'll pass right by the store on your way home."
"Y." came the answer.
"What? I don't understand what the big deal is. You need minutes for your phone and you're passing by the damn store. Just get stop in and get them."
Not content to let sleeping dogs lie, I texted one more time. "You remember which minutes you need, right."
The answer came. "Y."
That made me mad, and I just typed in one word. "Cripes!"
Tim got home, and I was still a little grumpy. I didn't understand why such a simple request had to turn into such a big deal.
He handed me the card and asked me to add his minutes to his phone. I grumbled. "I don't get what the big deal was about all of this."
He looked at me. "It wasn't a big deal at all."
"It sure was. I told you your phone was out of minutes and asked you to stop and get some. You ask "Why?" I tell you the phone is out of minutes, and you're passing by the store, so just get the minutes." You ask 'Why?" What the heck was that all about?!!! Gees!"
He laughed and laughed. Then he said, "Y means 'yes' and N means 'no'.
I looked at him. "I thought you were asking why?"
'No, I was telling you yes."
I shook my head. "Tim..."
Curiously, he said, "what's 'crispy'?"
"You texted 'crispy'."
"No I didn't!"
He pulled out his phone. "Right here...c-r-i-p-e-s."
"Are you joking?" The man reads all sorts of manuals. Teaches himself everything. This is a very intelligent man. But I could tell from the look on his face that he wasn't joking. I felt mean. So I explained. "You were making me mad. That says 'cripes'."
"Oh." He said. "Well, I bought Doritos."