Huge hands with huge fingers are not an evolutionary advantage on a smart phone. I see my kind becoming extinct, like some sort of vastly fingered megafauna. I go to the La Brea tar pits and look at the skeletons of megatheriums with their huge clumsy claws and envision me thudding at a tiny digital keyboard with ridiculous fingers, tormented by GIFs.
Here at work there’s a gizmo I’m supposed to use. Grab an item, point this thing at the bar code, make sure the inventory is correct. Simple enough, except this thing has a screen not much larger than a deck of cards. To make it work, I have to tap the glass; gives me an creepy feeling to touch glass, because I leave my nasty fingerprints on it. Most of the time the damned thing doesn’t work anyway. If it does, I’m supposed to enter my user name (assigned to me; it’s a meaningless combination of three letters and four numbers) by touching the incredibly tiny keys on the fake typewriter that appears on the screen. Drives me nuts. I can tolerate the main computer that I am required to stare at all night long (I work the graveyard shift; less work, fewer phones calls, no people here) because it has a real keyboard that I can slam my fingers into with a satisfying bang.
I love this comment. A perfect essay.