July 18, 2011
Once upon in a day or was it several of them,
I went to Orange with my wife (in French that is “femme”).
I went with my wife not to go it alone,
We went to make sense of our cellular phone.
We met a young man with a nice smile, a nice bod,
He gave me his card that said his name, it was Saad.
He wanted to help, he wanted it bad,
Three hours later I think he was mad.
You see, our phones were a mess, wound tight like a clock.
We wanted them free but they wouldn’t unlock.
Saad called up Nokia, he called up his boss.
In the end all he could say was that he’s at a loss.
The phones are the same as they were at the start,
Saad is still nice; in fact, nice, kind and smart.
My wife is concerned ’cause our friend’s in misuse.
And me, all I can do is make rhymes like ol’ Seuss.
I’ve looked for a moral to the day’s repartee,
And decided it rests in trying to be arty.
I’ve written this rhyme in hope of gaining a laugh,
But just like today, I think it’s been a gaff.