Postcards From Across the Pond

Yesterday, my phone texted me to tell me I had visited five pubs in the previous week. This surprised me, for a number of reasons.

My first reaction was, that seemed a lot. While there have been times in my life when a statement like that would have made me think, “Is that all?” these days, I rarely visit one pub a week, much less five. So, that was surprising. As if sensing my incredulity, my phone then offered to show me a list. Curious, I clicked the link and, sure enough, I had managed to visit The Hornbrook (Horsham), The Black Jug (Horsham), The Malt Shovel (Horsham), The John Harvey (Lewes) and The Dorset (Lewes). All in the same week.

(I wish I had taken a photo for proof, but my camera is my phone, so that proved impossible. I am, I assume, able to take a screenshot, as I am forever deleting screenshots from my phone’s camera roll that I have taken accidentally, but I don’t know how to do it on purpose.)

My second reaction was, why is my phone telling me this? I have been aware for some time that my phone is keen to track my whereabouts, but I don’t recall ticking the “Please Be My Moral Compass” setting.

I had, over the course of that same week, visited at least two coffee shops, and gone twice to our local leisure centre, but my phone didn’t think to point that out. Just the pubs, making me wonder if it was some sort of virtual intervention.

That may be the case, as I have recently begun receiving Monday Morning Reviews, enlightening me—via graphs and bullet points—on how my weekly screen-time measures up to previous weeks. I may be imagining this, but I sense that it is pleased when my numbers are lower, and disappointed in me when they are not.

Again, I do not recall ticking any “Please Nag Me About My Bad Habits” setting, so why the sudden interest in my welfare?

Has my phone finally become sentient? (Or, more chillingly, is it only just now admitting it?) If so, that would make sense. As a parasitic life form, it has a vested interest in the health of its host. So it’s to its advantage to keep me from visiting too many pubs, or from spending too much time watching mindless drivel on YouTube Shorts. Drip-feeding is the way to play the long game; if I over-indulge, I’ll become a slack-jawed, google-eyed zombie incapable of functioning, and once the phone bill stops being paid, the parasite will die.

No, my phone is smarter than that (the clue it in the name).

But really, how closely is it following my habits? Perhaps I should test it by visiting some strip-clubs, or hanging out in opium dens, and see what reproving messages that invokes.

On the other hand, it might be smart enough to not only send me texts telling me how disappointed it is in my behaviour, it might shop me to my wife’s phone, and tell her where I’ve been going and what I’ve been doing.

No, best to play it safe. Maybe I’ll just visit a garden centre, instead.