Once upon a time, there was a man. A silly, silly man. This man became obsessed with a little game on his little Smart Phone called "Restaurant Story." Some would say he became addicted to it. He played it all the time. He thought about it all the time. It even took over his little blog called The Jason Show, and he misled his readers into believing that he had acquired a real, actual restaurant rather than a virtual one.
One of his main tasks as a restaurant owner was to check the foods that had been cooking all night long, serve them, and put something else on to cook for later in the day. This had to be done when he first woke up.
One of this silly man's other tasks as a human being was to pee first thing in the morning. Each night, his bladder would fill, requiring it to be emptied when he got up. Because this silly little man is, at times, a multitasker, he fell into the habit of serving his restaurant food while he peed, which he would certainly never do if he actually worked in a real restaurant. To make this easier, he would sit as he relieved himself. Yes, a male pee sitter. So what? Shut up. This enabled him to use both hands more freely during the process.
This silly little man often thought to himself, "one of these times I am going to drop my phone right in the toilet," of course never really imagining that this would really ever actually happen. After all, this was a virtual restaurant he was managing, so any sort of mishap would certainly be virtual, as well, right? It stood to reason.
Then the inevitable happened. This silly little man lost grasp of his phone and it hit the toilet seat with a thud and then there was a very loud PLOP! There wasn't a moment to lose. The restaurant was at stake! He plunged his silly little hand into the toilet and snatched his phone out, lickety split. Maybe, just maybe, the smart phone would be saved and the restaurant would survive.
First this silly little man dried the phone off with a towel as best he could. Then he washed his hands. Then he grabbed the antiseptic wipes and sanitized his phone. Then he took it apart and dried and sanitized the interior surface of the phone. Then he tried to turn the phone on, and it did not respond. Then this silly little man put his silly little face in his silly little hands and sobbed,
"Whatever will become of my restaurant?!?"
The silly man confessed most of this tale to his not so silly husband, and his not so silly husband was sympathetic, although when he reads this and finds out that the whole mishap was because of his husband's silly obsession with a silly game, he might not be so sympathetic.
He helpfully suggested putting it in a bag of rice for 24 hours, because this helps the inner parts of the phone to dry out quickly.
The silly little man spent his Saturday as a bundle of raw nerves, worrying about his chicken tenders that hadn't been served and were sure to spoil, yet feeling grateful that he had managed to serve nearly 50,000 plates of plum pudding just before dropping his phone into the toilet.
Twenty four hours later, his phone had not recovered.
Twenty five hours later, he became the proud owner of the Droid X, which is making his pee pee tickle so much that he can hardly stand it. He is in love. His friend, Cheri, has an iPhone Boyfriend. This silly man has a Droid X Boyfriend.
(He just found a review of the Droid X that begins like this: "Dipped in clarified cyborg testosterone as it comes off the assembly line, the Droid X is sci-fi machismo congealed into a phone." )
Clarified cyborg testosterone.
Doesn't that sound just like this silly, silly man?
Silly, silly, silly little man.