I got me a camera phone.

Since my no-frills cell phone will only take a ten-minute call before that annoying “charge battery, wanker” beep starts, we signed up for two more years and scored some free phones. Last time I bought a phone, I switched networks because we drove through mountains in which our phones went blank. At the little kiosk, I asked the clerk who — was more interested in the scummy looking guy who was hitting on her and looking down her shirt — if there were any phones without cameras. “Mm hmm,” she replied. Remembering my own crappy customer service jobs and how I always did better than this bad-name-here, I asked again, “Which ones?” She clicked her nails on one phone without looking at it. I stood around until someone else who worked there asked to help us so that he could have the commission. My wife called me sexist, but come on.

It was an Okay phone. Despite being more polite than the cleavage-lady, the guy who sold us our phones didn’t know his products enough to know that this one did not have the web, which I was pretty used to having. Not having a computer in my office during my first years of graduate school, I liked being able to check my email anywhere. And to have something to do while my wife tried on clothes and took a long time in the bathroom at a restaurant.

I didn’t want an mp3 phone with accessories to buy and take care of, but I did want a camera and the web. The camera because I always see things on my bike that I can’t photograph because I don’t take my camera with me on two wheels without a bag. And even with a bag, I can’t get it in traffic. The web because I missed it.

So the big V owns me for two more years. But I got a cool little black phone that has the ringtone from The Life Aquatic on it. Put there by my brother who is nice and awesome. I’d promise not to subject you to camera phone pics on here, but the city just put a new bike lane on my street. And it’s calling me.