There’s a piece of technology that sits in my hallway, which I haven’t used for years, so it came as a bit of a shock when the fucking thing started ringing.

I stood beside it, staring and listening to the incessant noise as I tried to remember what I was meant to do. By the time I realised that I was supposed to lift the handset bit out of the cradle in which it had been resting, the noise stopped.

I blame all the new technologies; all that emailing, tweeting, skyping and texting. I don’t want to sound as if I’m promoting BT here, because they can be a real fuck-up at times, but I have to say that the unexpected ringing in my hallway yesterday did remind me that things used to be simpler and, once I dug out the manual and read all there was to know about dialling 1471, I was immediately in touch with the person who had made that call.

A ‘call’, for those of you who have forgotten, is like a two-way voice text thingy.

The Tea Maker

PS: You can comment on this story by emailing me at [email protected] and I’ll respond to your emails in next week’s column. We’ll never publish your email address.

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The Tea Maker

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