Breaking Up (With my 212) Is Hard to Do

A 212 number once had a certain cache, a status symbol that indicated we were original New Yorkers. Not too much is original anymore.

The Verizon repairman clomped through my living room, searching for ancient telephone wires to bring my landline dial tone back from the dead.

"You're the only one in the building who still has a landline," he marveled. "You oughta upgrade."

We — my 212 number, not the repairman — and I have been together for 40 years.

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