Tale of the Naughty Phone

Sometimes, as I’m typing on my phone, when I hit ‘space,’ it types the word, “naked” of its own free will.

I’m not making this up.

I have no idea why it does it. No idea how it got started doing it. But it’s always the word NAKED, and it seems to happen randomly. It started today when I was doing some Facebook messaging, and it continued for a good portion of the morning. It’s quite awkward when it happens.

For example, a message I wrote this morning (from bed, no less) would have, unedited, said, “I naked don’t naked want naked to naked overexcite naked you, naked but naked my naked new naked cookbook has naked an naked entire naked chapter naked devoted naked to naked chili naked.”

So much for not overexciting the recipient of that one.

I’m beginning to think it’s haunted by the spirit of Jeffrey from Coupling.

 

Why else would it be constantly saying, “NNNAKED”?

I mean, seriously! I don’t know that I’ve ever even typed NAKED on my phone of my own free will. I won’t say that’s impossible, but I certainly don’t recall voluntarily discussing nudity on Facebook or Twitter.

…yeah, okay, so I probably have said NAKED in both of those places at a variety of times.

But why did NAKED get saved to my phone as the random space-word?

I’m always afraid I’ll MISS one of the nakeds when it happens, so I’ll end up sending a text to someone that says, “I’m going naked to the store. Do you need anything?”

With my luck, I’ll probably send a semi-professional text to my agent or someone that says, “I finally sent you that naked email!”

At this point, the word NAKED is losing all meaning. Perhaps that’s why my phone does it, to brainwash me into some sort of naked-saying weirdo with an immunity to unsolicited, semi-naughty interjections. Then, just when I’ve resigned myself to a lifetime of naked texts and public posts, it’ll switch to something worse, like CROTCH or LUBRICANT.

And now I’ve spread the disease. You’ll be seeing and hearing NAKED everywhere you turn, now. Like Jeff, you’ll write it on a piece of paper and rub your face in it—you’ll say it aloud, drawing it out, “NNNNNAAAAAAKED,” probably in a semi-public place when you think you’re alone but actually a mother and small child is standing behind you.

And you will think of me.

You’re welcome.

Thank you, naughty phone, for this curse.

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