￼Ok, so recently I made a rather spontaneous purchase motivated by impassioned curiosity, that resulted in a bank balance now bereft of nearly £200! Needless to say my girlfriend is unaware of the financial severity of this impulse transaction. For the most part I’m usually very responsible with my money and how I choose to distribute it, applying a rigorous discipline to my frugality by only purchasing the most necessary of resources. I don’t buy designer brands. If a pair of jeans cost any more than £20 then I’m not interested. If I go out for drinks I always limit the amount of beers I buy and never EVER buy rounds! But there’s something about technology that just seduces me into the nonchalant world of frivolity, that has yet again cajoled me into another superficial acquisition. Having perused a certain auction site whose name rhymes with “B-bay” for luxury items I’d like to buy in the not too distant future, I stumbled across a rather alluring package deal up for sale. Valued at an initial asking price of £120, this package included a flamboyant red PS4 controller (something I require considering the recent deterioration of my own), a controller mount attachment so I can play my PS4 through the link application for more portability, an Xperia compact tablet and case. It had lured me in with its sleek design, come hither curvatures and vibrant display. I overstepped the bounds of propriety by bidding in the last 10 seconds, not believing that I would in fact win it. But I did. And it was a weird sensation of euphoria coupled with remorse. Of course it was too late to do anything about it now without incurring enormous fracas between the proprietor and myself. Besides, as errant as my late bid was I knew that I wanted it, despite the severe financial penalties.
I must admit that during the intervening time before it arrived my feelings on the device did begin to waver, as I yielded genuine indignation for the subtracted sum of money that had been depleted from my bank account. I’m still solvent, I haven’t been forced to relieve little old ladies of their pensions or burglarize a stray vagrants corrugated home. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d made an egregious error in acquiring a device I didn’t really need. But when it arrived, with all its adjunctive items and my curiosity severely tempered, I was exceptional pleased. The Xperia compact is quick, responsive and beautiful. Just beautiful! With an interface that is both intuitive and familiar (I already own a Sony Xperia Z 3 phone). So in essence it’s merely a bigger extension of that. It’s lightweight design belies the solidity of its rigid structure, as you swiftly switch between apps with fluency, decreasing the kinetic friction of my conventional phone display. The remote play functionality allows me – the socially repressed, hermetically introverted – to become an even more neglectful boyfriend and father. My PS4, which has now been permanently localised to the living room to satisfy the whims of my girlfriend, who abuses it to catch up on soaps and reality shows, negates my ability to play any of my games, hence the purchase of the devices. There is a slight rendering latency a noticeable interface lag, with a very discernible visual distortion to the resolution that is probably a result of my woefully insufficient router, but overall it’s an adequate substitution for a 42 inch screen. I’d probably have better coverage if I plugged my router into the anal crevices of a chimpanzee, but what can you do. All the additional items that accompanied it just adds further credence that this was a great buy. Even though I’m skint and have falsely claimed that the device – as well as its supplementary appliances – cost a total of £60 to satisfy my girlfriends enquiries into its purchase (I’m a terrible person, I know!) I’m glad I bought it when I did. Well at least I was until one little incident somewhat (literally and figuratively) dampened my enthusiasm…..
With such an extravagant purchase comes certain neighbouring formalities you have to abide by, notably home utility malfunctions. It’s the unwritten rule that comes with buying something you don’t necessarily need, that such extravagances must be met with a punishable opposite to balance out such undue frivolity. Your car may break down or you receive an unexpected bill you can’t pay for example. About a week after receiving this luxurious item, with all of its substantial accessories, I was getting myself ready for work. It was morning and like most men my primary objective was relieving my body of all the retained fluid that had amassed during my intermittent convalescence (I say “intermittent” because my daughter is in the habit of waking once an hour screaming due to teething). Once I’d urinated with precise aim (no excess splashing!) I then pursued my next most carnal engagement; FOOD! I entered the kitchen ready to ingest a sizable quantity of juvenile packaged breakfast cereal, when it suddenly occurred to me that my feet were wet. It took me a couple of seconds to really comprehend this sensation ( I was after all still half asleep) as I slowly began to realise that this trickle of water was emanating from our 5-year-old washing machine. Of course the financial contingency usually reserved for such drastic revisions had been well and truly spent, by me, on a £200 tablet, plus accessories. My girlfriend who instinctively began affirmative action to rectify the situation did inquire rather extensively into why I had such limited money (thankfully we have separate accounts) and why I was being even more tight with my money than I normally am. “Well you know I’ve got my….um…phone! And eh…..the….shoes I bought last month that I got overcharged for! Plus you know, Christmas. You know what it’s like.”
Lying to my own girlfriend. This is what I’ve been reduced to. Christmas is supposed the happiest season of all. Full of joy, snow, awful jumpers and sustained deceit, the very definition of Christmas. So when you’re tucking into your Christmas day Turkey, drinking another glass of sherry, jingling your bells and arguing with your uncle about how to spell hermaphrodite in a tense filled game of boggle, think of me; lying to my significant other about a tablet, while our washing machine continues to leak fluid like dehydrating manatee.
What purchases have you made that you know you shouldn’t have? Let me know in the comments below. Cheers.