Tall Talkin' Telly the Candlestick Phone

This story contains sexual innuendo

Tall Talkin’ Telly the Candlestick Phone

By Gail. J. Beauregard

Well, hello darlin’. What brings you to the South? Come to visit us sweet southern belles, no doubt. Lovely of you to call on me. You know, you think those sleek model cell phones you all carry around may make you happy…but they’ll never hold a candle to me, the candlestick telephone.

    I’m slim and shapely too. I’ve got quite the desk appeal. Why, I’m as chic as they come—a real crowd pleaser alright. Did you know I have a rotary dial? That’s the place where you select your number, insert the tip of your finger and rotate the dial. That’s foreplay with your phone! More action than you’ll ever get from your smart-alexa cell phone! And every time you turn that dial; I whirr with delight. So influential am I that to this day people still refer to the act of placing a call as “dialing” the number. Face it, you all loved the dial.

    My ancestors, the cranks, didn’t have a dial face. They had two bells, a speaker funnel and a perpetual look of surprise. I suspect it was because in those days lines weren’t private. Everybody knew everyone’s business. No whispering sweet nothings in your sweetheart’s ear. Just local gossip about Aunt Petunia’s rash and little Tommy’s temper tantrum. That would make anyone cranky.

    When I came along people “oohed” and “aahhed” over me. I didn’t hang, like some simpering wall flower waiting for a call. I stood, regal and confident on my desk, an objet d’art, all gleaming black and silver, sweet little earpiece draped at my side—such a saucy southern belle I am. I rang with beautiful bell-like tones. Got my name because of my tall, slim shape, and because baby, I lit up the room with my sassy shiny face. They named me “Telly.” Every day I rang for them and every day the house resounded with “get the telly.” Oh, they adored me.

    Imagine my chagrin one day when in came a new phone. A chunky, bulky and not-at-all-hip phone. He sat there on my desk, such a square, his line all kinky. And, oh my! I do declare…I’m beginning to feel faint. Why he…he may be some kind of per…

  “B-r-r-r-ring.” Hello, dollface. You’re a dilly.

    Well! I never! You don’t even know me, sir. And my name most certainly is not dilly.

    Let’s get to know one another, dollface. Go ahead, ask me anything.

    I will not! You, sir, have no manners. And this is my desk. What are you doing here? For that matter, what are you? Why, you remind me of a big ol’ black bullfrog, sittin’ there squat and square.

    I’m a telephone, dollface. A landline. Folks use me to make calls. They lift this part, called the receiver, and ‘bri-i-i-i-ing’ it to their ear. They talk into the other end, after dialing the number—right here on my handsome rotary dial. When they’re done talking they hang up the receiver by placing it into the cradle. You’d like my cradle. Come a little closer and I’ll show it to you.

    Are you getting fresh with me? I am not that kind of phone, sir. I am a respectable candlestick phone. I’ve been with this family for a very long time.

    Well then you must have some mighty interesting stories to tell. Come on, spill the tea. What’s the latest?

    Listen here, daddy-o. I am not the telling-Telly type. I do not spread gossip. I’m a private line. A real and true straight-up gal. You better straighten up and step in line if you want to stay here. But maybe that’s not possible, judging by that coiled up, kinky line of yours.

    You like that? Hey hey. How’d you like me to wrap my line around those pretty shoulders of yours? This line of mine is stretchy, so folks can move around while they chat. It’s great for a cuddle too. Me and you, dollface, whatdaya say? It’s a little chilly. How about giving me your number and we cozy up for a while?

    I—well, I must admit, this is quite flustering. I have not been talked to before. Every day folks pick up my earpiece, dial a number and talk into me. I don’t mind—awfully much. (deep sigh). But they don’t really see me. They just talk right through me. No one is interested in my feelings. But I know all about everyone else’s feelings. It has been rather lonely. (sniff sniff).

    Not anymore, sweetheart. Big daddy-o is here. You and me, toots—we can dial up a real good time. You’re the sweetest thing I’ve seen. You just rest your pretty self here in my cradle. I’ll ring up some room service—anything you want.

    Oh! I feel so suddenly warm. All up and down my candlestick. (she titters). Look at that shine on you. You are quite drooly, sir. And aren’t you the charmer! Why, I do believe you may see the real me! “B-r-r-ring, b-r-r-ring.” There’s a call coming through. Shush, now. Behave. You’ll ruin my standing reputation. “B-r-r-ring, b-r-r-ring.” No one is coming to answer. They must not be home.

    That means we’re all alone. Come on over here, dollface. Tell me about your hopes and dreams. Get cozy in my cradle. I’ve been lonely too. Been thinking about settling down, starting a family. Ya see that big white and yellow book over there. It’s full of numbers. I know most of ‘em. Not one of ‘em ever dialed up anything like you, pet. How’s about it? You with me?

    Sir, are you requesting my permission to call on me? I assume that is the case, as I have already told you I am a proper lady. My number is not in your book, and I’m not rightly sure I shall give it to you.

    Oh, baby doll. Don’t worry your pretty little self. My dial tone is only for you. Everything will be tickety-boo. Your honor is safe with me.

    (Some little while later). Aahhh, Boojiboo. You are such a sweet talker. You’ve swept me off my base.

     That’s my gal. (Dial tone purring loudly). Just imagine the gorgeous family we’ll make, dollface. Our girls will be real princess phones. And our boys—you know how boys are, always pushing buttons.