Bye Bye Berry
It’s not like losing a best friend or a family pet - it’s worse in that it affects me on so many more levels! There I was, frolicking in the park with my best pal in the world. We roller-bladed over to Toronto Island, we snuck margherita’s in our knapsack like 17 year olds, we found a great spot and played games all afternoon. It was too good to be true. Note: if it feels too good to be true, it IS.
It was evidently wasp season - they too were enjoying the last days of summer because they were buzzing around my cleverly disguised margherita cooler. Or were they Toronto Island Port Authority Spies? Hard to tell with technology these days. I had to go monitor a point I felt my partner may have misjudged and as I walked over to assess, I left the sacred Blackberry as gaurdian of my drink; there to fend off all incoming wasp attacks. No sooner did I walk away when I heard the sound.. the one that makes your head spin and your heart ache and your pulse race.. “Plunk”. It had happened. The worse thing possible. I’m not talking about mother nature or any sort of natural disaster. I am talking about my lack of spacial relations and how that ineptness caused my berry to take a nose dive into my margherita. I screamed. I ran. I pulled the SIM card and battery out and immediately licked the sugary nightmare off my flailing and gasping pieces of itsy bitsy but dangerously crippling technology much to my partners amusement. This was going in my file. But alas, it was too late. My berry didn’t respond. Not even a dull pulse.
I wrapped the carnage up carefully in my LCBO bag and transported the remains home where I tried again to resuscitate it. I never give up that easily and I wasn’t going to be defeated by my own short-comings. No way.
I should have known better. I’ve been around friends who bonk their heads - and hard! I’ve done it myself trying to snowboard on an old wooden toboggon. I plugged the berry into the life support unit called the power source and alas - it came to life! A little sketchy at first but within seconds - all systems were a go. So I felt glee, relief and a sense of martyrdom. I’m sure surgeons share the same elation when saving a life. For sure they do. We are akin. I walked away and didn’t come back for 3 hours. 3 hours is a long time when someone is hanging on for dear life.
What was I thinking? I was selfish and uncaring. If a friend has a head injury we all know you wake them up every thirty minutes! It’s common sense. Why didn’t I do that? All I had to do was pay a visit to the kitchen counter to just ‘check in’ for a brief second to see if my Jacqberry was okay, and on the mend. But I didn’t and so I blame myself now for the tragic loss of an amazing PDA, BFF and right arm.
When these things happen I have a feeling that Larry David is going to call me based on reports he’s received and I may become a sitcom just for my own foolish behavior. Sad but true. Or.. sad but fantasy? Something has to come of all this, afterall.
