As I’ve mentioned the past few days here at my blog and at Twitter, I am in the market for a new cell phone. Officially, there is no rush since my current phone, though slowly dying a slow death, is somewhat functional. By that I mean, if someone calls me, I can answer.

Unofficially, I need to find a new phone before my current one explodes or eats itself or does something similarly catastrophic. The thing is a ticking time bomb. I’m completely serious. It scares me. [Help.]

Numerous people have told me it is taking too long for me to pick a new phone. “Just go buy an iPhone,” said my brother, an iPhone lover. “What do you have against iPhones,” asked my mom, also an iPhone lover.

“Make up your mind and buy a phone already,” suggested one friend. When I responded by saying I was doing my due diligence, this same quick-witted friend informed me that I’ve “passed due diligence and are quickly careening into indecisiveness!”

Another friend asked me if I was this indecisive about everything, and if I’d be this way when deciding whether or not to propose to whomever turns out to be “the one”?

Very funny, people. I’ll have you know I’m the most decisive person on the planet! (Stop laughing. Why are you laughing?)

The reason for this is I usually think through scenarios long before they happen. And when they happen, if they happen, I already know how I want to react.

For example, do you know what you would say if you were suddenly in the presence of Barack Obama? ‘Cause I do. “Where is your teleprompter,” I would ask him. Then I would say, “boom…roasted” before turning and walking away.

You see, I’ve already thought about this. The rest of you might stand there awestruck, trying to think of just the right thing to say (or just the right blunt object to throw at him), but not me. I already know.

Okay, I know some of you are probably confused.

If I think through scenarios before they happen, if I really know what I want and am decisive, why haven’t I already figured out which phone to buy?

Excellent question. You see, well, before my phone began to die its slow death, I…well, never gave even a passing thought to what cell phone I wanted next.

I am not a phone person.

I. AM. NOT. A. PHONE. PERSON.

I dislike, with a passion, talking on the phone. It irritates me. Not counting immediate members of my family, there have been exactly three people during my lifetime that I actually enjoyed talking to on the phone.

Three.

For anyone else, if I’m on the phone with you for longer than two minutes, I’m looking outside a window during our conversation, contemplating whether or not to drop my phone and run to freedom. Where do I imagine I will run to? Oh, I don’t know. Someplace magical. Someplace without phones.

But I digress.

In the four years since I last purchased a phone, technology has changed by leaps and bounds. It is absolutely insane the things phones can do these days. Can they stop time? Can they shoot lazers? Can they massage my shoulders? Heck, it wouldn’t surprise me if they could. These phones seem capable of practically anything.

And given the changes, and given the fact I haven’t been following the phone fads the past four years, perhaps now you all can understand the need for my due diligence. I need time to sort through all the information!

No?

You still need convincing?

“What? Go home with you? What kind of robot do you think I am?!”

Okay, imagine, if you will, a guy who is waking up from a coma. He’s been asleep for years and years and years. And during that time, the female gender ceased to exist. Now, there only exists men…and robots dressed up as women.

Now, imagine asking this recently-comatose patient to go out and pick a mate. It would be tough wouldn’t it? He’d need time to process all the changes that have taken place since he was last out there on the dating scene.

What color robot would he like? How tall would he like his robot? Does he want a robot made in China or America?

Does he want a robot with super strength? Such a skill would come in handy if they ever crossed paths with a mugger, but what happens if the robot ever malfunctions and starts shouting “INTRUDER ALERT” when he steps out of the bathroom?

Now, obviously, if such a scenario actually took place the coma guy would choose the robot with the best legs. The rest wouldn’t matter. But for the purpose of this analogy, let’s pretend the guy would need at least a week or two to figure out what he wanted.

That’s where I am right now.

I am a recently-awakened coma patient who has discovered women have been replaced with robots.

Quite honestly, if you look at it that way, you all should be happy if I ever buy a new phone.