Tag Archives: phone

Dear Fingertips

Dear Fingertips,

I’m not sure where to begin. We go way back, Fingertips. Way. Back. I know I haven’t always treated you well. In my lifetime I have burned you on hot baking pans, intentionally calloused you when learning to play guitar, drawn smiley faces on you, covered you in glue repeatedly, subjected you to countless stabbings all in the name of blood testing and probably slammed you in at least one door. I can understand why you might be upset with me.

Sure, times have been rough in the past, but I’ve tried to make life good for you despite our difficulties. I’ve bandaged you when you were hurt, cleaned you when you were dirty, kept you warm in the frigid winters of Virginia, Michigan and Texas and have attempted to keep you in the best condition possible without resorting to wrapping you in bubble wrap and packing peanuts.

Also, I’ve given you this little thing called life. Without my heart beating, lungs breathing and nerves firing, you would have suffocated a long time ago. In all reality, you should be thankful that you’re even alive to experience your fiftieth cardboard cut. Just think: without me and the rest of my body, you’d be dead.

It is on this note that I must ask one simple question: Considering all that I have done for you, why do you refuse to grip and hold items? I do not work in a pineapple factory, nor am I a Man in Black. I have fingerprints which should help you grip things. I even checked today to make sure my fingerprints hadn’t been worn away somehow. You seem quite healthy in all regards. Other than my left pinky, you are not deformed in any way, and even my pinky is only stuck in a slightly bent position.

You aren’t backward on my hands, you still have fingerprint texture, your muscles continue to work well, you haven’t been bitten by a rabid raccoon, so what gives? Why is every day of my life filled with instances of you dropping important items on the very hard floor beneath me? Why do my cell phone, my keys and my work name tag all slip out of your grip? Why are my friends forced to help me pick up things I have dropped multiple times during a short visit?

I feel there must be something more going on here. You seem perfectly healthy, so I can only imagine you have decided to go on strike. If this is the case, please let me know so I can deal with the situation accordingly. It is very inconsiderate for you to continue letting my personal items slip to the floor. I ask that you either shape up or send a list of your demands to me so we can come to some sort of agreement.

Thank you in advance.