Bali drop out Nigel Simmonds was yesterday in mourning over the tragic loss of his alternative lifestyle following the introduction of a telephone into his household. He was over 21. The trouble started Thursday afternoon. "A man in a blue uniform appeared at the front door with a clipboard in his hand and asked us for money," said Simmons, who left the rat race in 1993 to live a life of seclusion on Bali. "He said he could change our lives." Sure enough he did. Within two weeks, a series of poles had been erected through the dusty Balinese village where Simmers lives and a wire strung between them. Someone even maintained the wire was connected to the larger scheme of things. "Then l got up about midday as l usually do," said Simmons, a former journalist, "and there it was on my desk - a telephone. l nearly messed myself," he said. The real world was held at bay for a little longer, however. "The thing was not making any noise,"
	said Siemens, "and l finally realized it was not working. actually, l was quite relieved." Could it have been that someone, somewhere, had forgotten to flip the switch? "'Well, yes, that was it, you see - l could not figure out why these guys in the blue uniforms kept hanging around the house. l mean, the phone was already in and they were still there." Eventually, Slimbuns discovered the trouble. "Wayan, the woman who cooks and cleans round here, finally told me the engineers wanted more money. They said it was for food, and as they were really hungry, they were not able to flip the switch until they had eaten. So of course l gave them a small fortune." Miraculously, the engineers regained their strength following his donation and the telephone was turned on. Then it started ringing. It was a bit of a shock, he said, and it caused terrible confusion in the household. For instance: when Simian asked she-who-cooks-and-clears to clarify a number on the handset - it had been poorly scribbled on the telephone while he was out - she replied:
"No, no, no ... that is our telephone number here. Bemused by this answer, Sinbum asked her whether she had ever used a telephone before. "No," she replied. "Not in this lifetime anyway." Smodgekins decided on a training program. He drove to the island's capital, Denpasar, and bought one of those toy plastio portable phones that everyone has lying around the house in Hong Kong. "l thought it would be better to start her off on the pretend phone," said the condescending old fool, "you know, just in case my agent called." Unfortunately, it did not work out at all well (the agent never called either). "The toy telephone went missing soon after l bought it. l found it a few days later in the temple at the bottom of the garden. l think she had used it as an offering to the gods." Bali is well known as a balmy tropical "island of the Gods" where lush verdant rice terraces cascade into ... blah, blah, blah ... sun, sand, sea and sex. Asked what sort of boss Sinner was, she- who-cooks-and-cleans said: "He's not bad really, if a bit dim. He has no idea how to make an offering, how to cook or clean, and he always shows me up at temple. His sarong invariably looks ridiculous, he never fails to get the prayers wrong and he can barely string two words of Indecision together. It is truly pitiful, l tell you." At the time of going to press, Smodgecorns was not taking calls. Nigel Simmonds

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