My First Cell Phone Helped Me Realize I Had Terrible Friends
Kids are cruel, and I learned that the hard way.
My parents gave me my first cell phone when I was ten.
They said it was only for emergencies, but to a preteen in the early 2000s, it might as well have been gold. It was a shiny brick of a flip phone with raised buttons. I couldn’t wait to show it off to my friends.
I begged and pleaded with my parents to get me a phone since all my friends had one. They refused to get me one for the longest time since they said I was too young.
Most of them had the enviable Motorola RAZR. It had a slide-out keyboard you could slam back into place when you were mad at someone.
Gosh, I thought that phone was so cool.
My flip phone brick was no Motorola RAZR, but I hoped it was enough to impress my friends. I sauntered over to them and showed them my new phone, beaming with pride and excitement.
That feeling of joy lasted all of ten seconds, as they began making nasty remarks.
“Ewww, that’s the ugliest phone I’ve ever seen!”
“Why is it so big and bulky?”
“Your parents took forever to give you a phone and they gave you THAT?!”
