The most famous of which is never get involved in a land war in Asia, but only slightly less well known is this:
Never do what I did two days ago.
In order to comprehend exactly the depth of sordidness that this tale approaches, some exposition is necessary. I was lying in bed, having already brushed my teeth and taken my contacts out, about to fall asleep. On the long, winding road to set my cell phone alarm, I momentarily stopped on a most important mission. Since my phone is not equipped for European networks, its clock retains American central time. Needless to say, this is a bit annoying, especially when trying to set the alarm (adding seven to anything, after all, is an unnecessarily complicated mathematical proposition). I endeavored, therefore, to discover a way to change the clock manually.
It is very important to understand, as this story progresses, that my brain at this point was not what you might call “functional.” In that lovely place between sleeping and waking, where the line between good ideas and bad ideas is fuzzy at best, I was suddenly and disastrously overcome by a wave of stupidity that approached galactic proportions. What DOES “Master Clear” do, I asked myself, quite puzzled.
Absent mindedly, I selected this most mysterious option, truly curious as to its function. As you might expect with a function as ominous as Master Clear, the phone prompted me for a password. A person more classically trained in rhetoric or philosophy may have taken this prompt as a signal to perhaps turn back from the brink of utter destruction, put the phone away, and retire. Unfortunately for me, a dastardly combination of stupidity and curiosity pushed me forward.
Unsure of the password, I tried several things. “123456” was denied. As was my telephone number. Hardly thinking at all (as has been the case the entire time), I entered “000000” and was permitted to proceed. Even at this point, my phone continued to throw up roadblocks to my unwavering, seemingly unstoppable idiocy. “Are you SURE you want to Master Clear?” it so politely asked my sleep-addled brain. “Sure,” I casually replied.
“Are you REALLY REALLY SURE?”
Of course I’m sure, you silly phone. I know what I’m doing. I’m the human after all. It was my people who designed and created you, and I think I know when I’m sure I want to do something, so just back off.
Do you know that immediate, sudden, and utter turnabout your brain does right after you’ve done something monumentally stupid? As if you were watching yourself acting from afar, knowing that you should stop yourself but being absolutely powerless to do so. After the deed is done though, the two brains again are one and the breathtaking magnitude of the error is realized. This is what happened after I pressed “Yes.” As though struck by a burlap sack filled with bricks and swung by a Mendicant giant, I was pummeled back to consciousness.
Oh dear. Oh dear. What have I done. What have I done.
Frantically pressing “No” afterwards apparently does no good. Nor does ripping out the battery and throwing it across the room. The function, it turns out, was quite aptly named, for my phone was then and now remains Master Cleared. Nearly 150 phone numbers, some photos, and various other things were wiped out in one fell swoop.
As if millions of voices suddenly cried out, and were suddenly silenced.
Woe is me.
4 comments:
This tale was nearly as epic as that time when Alderaan was destroyed. My deepest sympathies.
This was very funny.
...
...good job there.
classic. Also totally something I would have done, so at least your not alone.
Now you'll have to set up one of those deeply annoying facebook groups to get everyone's numbers. Sucks about the pictures though.
There were some pretty badass pictures on that phone. That sounds really rough, buddy. The good news is, you can't use the phone until you go home, right?
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