Torrid

Your reputation preceded you. I had heard so many people sing your praises and prattle on about all you had to offer. This glory parade in your honor had little impact on me as I had met several like you. Or so I thought.

When we met, I admit I was more impressed than I anticipated. And soon, my interest grew. But this is how you work your magic, isn’t it? For the non-believers, those with resistance, it is just a slow burning seduction. And at first, while I was spending time with you it certainly didn’t cloud my thoughts from other things. In your absences, I wasn’t curious of your activities or what titillating information you had to share. Even though I was a fan, it was not on display. And I was non-committal.

But the more time we spent together, my interest grew into adoration. You began to leak into my every nerve. And instead of canoodling with you when JohnnyMac was gone, I began to tote you right out into the middle of our conversations. I even brought you to an amazing dinner one night and when JohnnyMac went to the men’s room, I couldn’t resist putting my hands all over you. I even gave you a pet name: Curve. And as we spent a few minutes alone, we got caught. I tried to push you under the table, but it was too late. JohnnyMac saw my behavior with his own eyes.

But it didn’t deter me. Instead, I began to openly flaunt you. I took you on vacation. I would make googly eyes at you when my Hub was trying to talk to me. I promised I wouldn’t carry you with me but then I would slip you into the car. What if something important were to happen and I was not aware?

And then when you were just sitting about, you would beckon me..with that familiar buzz or your flashing red light. Urging me to come over for one little look. I couldn't stay away.

And then one day I had a smacking realization. When? Oh, after almost tripped over someone’s shoes in the living room and in an instant thought, who leaves their shoes in the middle of the living room? And I look down to discover they are MY shoes and I would have seen them had I not been yet again in the middle of my torrid affair with you, my Blackberry Curve.

I need to stop this. I became one of "those girls" who is addicted to technology.

Unlike the belief that you were sewn into my palm, you are not. I need to move on and begin reducing the time we spend together. I like you a little too much.
And now you accuse me of falling under the spell of another. What’s that? I don’t know what you mean. You saw me fraternizing with a new Palm Pre? Oh, he’s just a friend. But I call him Pre for short.

Just because I am done with you, doesn't mean I'm done.