How I Met My New I-Phone

I can’t believe it has been 3 years since I ventured out of rube state and fell hook line and sinker for an I-phone.

I’ve been mustering up the courage to replace Ol’ Blue since she started down death’s path in December.

Lookie here, isn’t she a beaut? Ol’ Blue, my glorious 5C.

She has been failing with weird screen freezes, apps that quit working, and ‘not enough memory to do that’ messages.  Sigh.

I still love her color, it is just like looking up at the gorgeous blue sky or walking up to my front door.  Oh yeah, I’m kind of obsessed with sky blue.  Us bumpkins can do that living in the country.  Even the mice enjoy it as they bring pieces of the prairie to our front door.  The only people who see our door are those that drive by or the neighbors who let us know every time they see it, “That’s a really blue door…”  Duh?!

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I adore Ol’ Blue and all the lessons she has taught me.  Now comes the real test of my technology skills, will I be able to survive using the new golden blingy thingy?

How did I meet my new I-phone you ask?

That’s a funny story.  Ya all pull up a chair, cop a squat, it might take a bit.  Don’t ya mind my dangling toothpick, it came in handy after the lunch we had at Olive Garden.  The waiter added a bit of pepper on top of the extra garlic entrée chosen specifically to ward off evil spirits in the wild.

With garlic breath intact, gray hair fly-away working their thing in the gusty air, black skinny jeans and a long bright orange shirt covering my butt, denim jacket under my purple Columbia winter jacket, a hearty stomp to my stride in my kick-ass black knee-high boots, accompanied by my partner I-phone translator, we entered the Verizon store in a gust of cold air, ready to part ways with “Ol’ Blue.”

We stopped dead in the entryway.  Holy shit, this is one big-ass store, where do we go?  Two full counters of staff helping patrons and couches with people sitting there gawking at their phones.  Crap, is the fricken’ line that long that one has to rest while they wait?

“Look cool, Mom, let’s just browse, they’ll find us, they always know easy prey.”

Travis walks up and says, “Hello, (wait…was that a quick glance down at my gray hair?  I think he did…man o’ man…I hate it when that happens!), what may I help you with today?”

I pull out Ol’ Blue to show him what I’m there for, and say, “I’m here to replace my phone.”

Travis chuckles, as he motions us to the right and walks us toward the wall of Apple bling, “Ah, yes, the 5C (suckers), I’d recommend you stick with I-phone if you like it.  Here are the models you can choose from. I’ll get you in the queue and you can take a look at these while you wait.  It’ll be about 10-15 minutes.  You can look, but can’t really pick these up, you’ll need to be with a salesman (yep, no gals were working that day).  Someone will be with you shortly, Mam.”

I glanced at the fainting couches which suddenly made way more sense.  No one was sleeping, so that was a good sign.

We strolled around looking at all the blingy thingy’s and rounded the corner by the ‘other models’ stand.  There it was, the almost extinct model, I-Phone 5SE, the one the Mr. told me would be right for me.  He has that model, so when there are she-tech issues, he can rescue me.

Ol’ Blue shook my hand (I was clutching her closeby…parting is such sweet sorrow)– A text from 900060005025 (Who the hell is that?)  “You’re checked in!  We will notify you when you’re next!” (Whew, I don’t like texts from strangers, this one seemed legit.)

We stayed close to the cheap shelf while discussing the SE as my best option.  It was coming in the winner, with high recommendations from the Mr.  The cost way more in line with what will be yet another dinosaur in no time, no doubt.  Before ya know it I’ll be back here doing the I-need-to-replace-my-phone-dance again.

Ol’ Blue shook my hand, “You are next in line!  We will be with you shortly.”

Up walks a different No-Name guy, not a whole lot taller than me.  He looks at me and quickly sizes up my hair (suckers) and says, “What can I do for you today?”

“I’m here to replace my phone.” (I told the first guy that, but if I told this guy that I didn’t want to repeat myself, he might think I have dementia or something?)

My partner, sensing my dismay, stepped in quickly, and said, “She’d like the 5SE, do you have any in stock?”

“Sure, we have black, silver, pink, and gold, but I’ll have to look to see what’s available today.  Do you have a preference?  Oh, and we also have a deal on I-pads if you need one of those as well.”

“No, thanks, just the phone.  Any color will work, just not black, my husband has a black one, we need to be able to tell them apart.  Oh, and, it used to be that you could trade your old model in, is that possible to do today?”

No-Name, towering ever so slightly over me, looks down with a scowl on his face, “That was awhile ago, I guess we used to do that, but now it is a monthly fee with a 2-year contract.  Even if we did do that, your phone’s trade in value is only $14.99.  I’ll go grab a phone for you and be right back.”

“Oh, okay, thank you.”

“Here’s your phone.  Step over to the counter at the end and I’ll meet you there to activate it.”

I glance down at the box – a golden blingy thingy 5SE I-phone for little ol’ me.  “Oh, maybe I should have asked for silver to go with my hair?”

“No mom, this is just fine.  It’ll be just fine.”

To survive in the wild, you must have someone who can navigate the big world of I-phone exchanges.  One would think the salesperson at Verizon would be your go-to person, right?  Come to find out, they are only so helpful when you can remember your password.

Oops…yep, I forgot to write it down when I changed it at some point in time.

“No worries, Mam.”  He smiles and hands the sheet of instructions to my partner.  “You can use it when you find your password.  You have 12 days to return the phone.  Do you have any questions?”

I betcha my blank stare amused him.  All I could come up with is, “No, we’re good, thank you.”

“Have a nice day.”

Some meetings are very anti-climatic.

We exited the store with our cute little Verizon bag in tow.  I stuffed new golden blingy thingy in my pocket and Ol’ Blue away in my purse.  Ol’ Blue suffocating a bit knowing a silent death will arrive once her battery dies.  Sad…

We escaped without purchasing a more expensive model.  The Mr. is gonna be damn proud.  I started the engine to keep warm, and there we sat in the parking lot of the Verizon store, both staring down at gold blingy thingy’s “Enter your password” prompt.

“The gold color sure is pretty, ain’t it?”

“Yep, it is.  Let’s text Dad to see if he can find your password.”

There you have it, the tale of “How I met my new I-phone.”  To be continued…

Daily Post Prompt:  Rube

Daily Post Prompt:  Courage

SoCS:  His/Hers