Those of you who know me know that patience is my short suit. When I was in Bali, my beloved host Scot, husband of my beloved hostess Farah, told me that yelling at a taxi driver in Bali, which I did, because he had no idea where he was going, was like pulling out a gun in New York. So I never again, I don't think, yelled at a taxi driver.
Those of you on this list know that I have been undergoing some e-challenges, going to the Apple store, reuniting with my beautiful friends from Apple in NY, Gabi and Nando, who are going to make my website so I can become even more stressed and confused. Gabi showed me the iPhone, and it looked much simpler than I thought and I hated my Samsung, so I went today again to the Apple store, and bought one. Then began, at 2:09 PM it said on my helper's iPhone, yet another test which I quickly failed, a delay on approval of my credit from AT&T which I had been told would make it easier to use my iPhone. A very pretty Molly, who had helped me with my One on One some days ago, tried to clarify the situation, but could not understand what the operator was saying, (I think they are in some Asian country where English is the third language,) so got a manager, who couldn't understand either. I explained at that point-- it had been an hour and a half-- that I had a very short fuse and was about to lose it. So they called in Kyle, to trouble-shoot, though at that point I would have liked to shoot AT&T.
Kyle is twenty-five, to turn 26 next Saturday, and is already concerned that he is old to be a producer, to which he aspires, and was beat up last Saturday in Santa Monica by a bouncer who was offended by Kyle's companion's telling him to move at the bar, because he worked there. They have a lawsuit against the guys who beat him up which Kyle is hoping will get him the option money to be able to option something for film. But in the meantime, here is this sweet-faced, gentle man, who has a right arm hanging. He was an All-star baseball player at 11, when he had a stroke, and had to re-learn everything. Somewhere into his third sentence I lost any thought of losing my temper. So even though we were there with the morons from AT&T, wherever they were that was a Third or Fourth world nation, which is how, I would guess, AT&T makes even more money, when Billy Rose had started it in whatever year it was and it was the only monopoly that worked so of course they broke it up.
The point is, I was so touched by this young man, that I actually lost my burn. He was so gently consistent with whoever was on the phone, that I told him he was stalwart, a word he had never heard before, and said he was going to use in future interviews, and perhaps also with Words with Friends, something that the Apple guy last week told me was a game that so obsessed Apple Geniuses that when their time for a break came all they did was go in the back room and play. I have a beloved friend who usually sounds distracted when I call her, and when I visited her I saw she had Words with Friends, and I understood why she always sounds like she is on her way to someplace else, which she often is, but now the whole picture starts to clear,-- as my friend Kurt Vonnegut wrote: But I digress. At any rate, I am glad I never acceded to Jamie's invitation to join Words with Friends, as I have obsession enough writing words to friends, and those I don't know who I hope will become friends when and if they read what I've written. But I stop digressing. Eleven years old. If you have tears to shed, the greatest of the greats wrote, prepare to shed them now. Except that he picked up his life, played basketball in high school, and now works in the Apple store while he is waiting to become a producer. Come on. How can anyone be angry in the face of that. Stalwart is not a good enough word. Heroic, I think. I would write to Steve to tell him what a jewel he has, except I don't think he's still getting mail, except from the Justice Department.
By the way, I have a new number on my iPhone, but it is from New Jersey, the only one that is available. I don't know it yet and it's very hard to remember, so please if you want to contact me, use the old number which I still have because I couldn't trade in my Samsung for the iPhone. I am locked out of my e-mail, as I put in the wrong password, and I am simply in a struggle not to explode. But I think of Kyle, and realize nothing is really as bad as it feels for that moment.
Still, I wish I had stayed in the 19th century, with my sisters, Emily, Charlotte and Anne. Love to you all, Gwen Bronte.
