Dear 411,
Our affair has lasted for years and we’ve had some really good times.
Remember when you helped me cook a turkey? Or that time I called from Germany looking for the Montreal office of Air Canada because I was big baby and wanted to come home early?
Or that time in the 80’s when I called in drunk looking for Bob Geldof’s number. You and your British cousins were useless but at least you tried.
I’m not a fair-weather girlfriend – we’ve had 30 good years. But now we’re over, we’re done.
You’re a butter churn, an 8 track, a “Vote for Pedro” t-shirt – you’re history.
I’ve got a new boyfriend now – his name is TEL and he’s swell.
He’s everything you’re not – fast, global and doesn’t force me to find a pen.
Finally Bob and I will be able to have that drunken heart to heart I wished for 20 years ago. I punch bobgeldof.tel into my phone and Bob’s home phone number comes zinging down to my phone. And that’s cool.
Oh 411 – you’re nice, but you’re a horse and buggy compared to .TEL and I need a better ride.
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