I’ve spent a lot of time wondering about the correlation between cell phone stores and crazy people (“a lot” being the amount of time I’ve spent in cell phone stores waiting for someone to help me). Last time I was at the Verizon store, an old lady was screaming at one of the employees because he wouldn’t install “some’a them pie-phone apps” on her eighties-era Zach Morris phone. Another guy was going around to all the camera phone floor models in the store and taking pictures of his crotch. It was like being in the waiting room in hell, except with a stronger sense of impending doom.
This woman is probably asking why there’s so much interference in her phone reception. Maybe it’s the SATELLITE DISH’S worth of metal she has holding her hair up. Local radio stations probably have problems when she walks by the building.
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