I gave Carolyn my old mobile phone a few months back. Her even older mobile phone was on its last legs. It finally died at the weekend, so I had a panicky phone call from Carolyn:
"How do you turn on your mobile phone?"
"Is this some sort of smutty joke?"
"No. I can't work out how to turn it on. I think it might be broken."
"Have you charged it?"
"Yes, I'm not totally stupid!"
"Have you read the instruction booklet I gave you?"
"Did you give me an instruction booklet?"
"Yes, I put it in the bag with the phone and the charger."
"But how do you turn it on?"
"You hold down the 'No' key."
"How am I supposed to guess that?… Hey! It works! Who's this man with the beard?"
"Ah, the phone appears to have saved my old settings. That would be Charles Darwin. He's my wallpaper."
"How do I get the address book?"
"You move the joystick to the right."
"There's a joystick?"
"The little button between the 'Yes' and 'No' keys."
"I can see I'm going to have to read that instruction book.… Who's Ann?"
"Ah, it appears to have saved all my old contact details as well. Ann's a friend of mine."
"And what's this envelope thing?"
"That's the icon for text messages."
"What does 'Sent (35)' mean?"
"Oh, shit! You really don't want to be reading those!"
Yes, I would have too.
Yesterday evening, I sent Carolyn a text message, asking if she'd managed to work out how to use the phone yet. I received her reply this morning:
I'll take that as a no.