About a month and a half ago, my phone was stolen. Three hooligans literally swiped it when I turned around and walked 10 feet to go to the soda machine. It was a pretty, shiny iPhone 7 and it made me super sad. I had no insurance, so all told, that soda at Chipotle cost me around $350 bucks.
The attendant at T-Mobile was trying to do the upsell me on a new phone, but I was nooooot having it.
Me: “What’s your cheapest iPhone?”
“Weeeeellllll, we have the SE, but you sure –”
“I. said. Cheapest.”
“Cool – so, like you can get a 16 GB, 3-”
“CHEAPEST.”
Then I had to do the activation which somehow takes 300 years. I was sitting on this weird stool in T-Mobile and the guy is like, “Oh, yeah, we should have switched you to the other Wi-Fi network. Every business on the block uses the one you’re on. We don’t lock it! Lolz.”
I don’t think there’s anything worse in the modern age than having to sit and stare at your phone as that tiny white bar below the apple slowly fills up. It’s only at that moment when you realize what an iron grip this device has on you.
Want to fidget?
Too bad, you do that on your phone!
You could look at a newspaper or a book…
Oooooh, nope! You read everything on your Kindle on your phone.
(Malevolent phone laugh.)
I literally just sat and stared into space, sweating because I was getting later and later for work. The clock was the only thing I could look at. I thought about looking at the other shiny phones and tablets in the store, but it would just be a sore, horrific reminder of having just spent $350 because some stupid kids wanted to steal something.
This Galaxy is cool – I bet I can’t afford it, either!
Man had landed on Mars, which signaled that my phone was finally updated, so I made my way back to work.
The unveiling of my iPhone SE was basically the equivalent of showing everyone I had gone to T-Mobile for a leg amputation.
“Is.. that… is that a … 5?”
“It’s an SE, it has a 6S processor, it’s just the size of a 5.”
I felt it was definitely important to state the status of the processor. I mean, it’s basically your phone’s dick size.
Somehow, though, in the phone world as in life, size definitely does matter.
“Oh… it’s so small. You did have a 7, right?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m so sorry.”
Later:
“What is that?!”
“It’s my new phone.”
“Is that like a 3, LOL!”
I’m a 32-year-old man getting mocked for having a tiny phone, I can only imagine what modern teenagers have to deal with.
IT’S GOT A HUGE PROCESSOR, DON’T YOU WORRY!
Side note: This is the second blog I’ve written about an iPhone being a reflection of my masculinity. There is probably an academic article for a c-tier academic in this. “iPhallus: Modern Masculinity and The Apple Ecosystem.” Obvs, the cover would be the statue of David with a phone over his wee. Dr. Schmaltz, please credit me when this is published.)
After discussing the size of my phone’s genitals, you probably are thinking (read: hoping) this blog is over. You’d be wrong! More bad stuff happened to my poor, weak SE.
I got tickets to Lolla.
[Pausing here for you to roll your eyes/think I have Peter Pan syndrome/wonder why I want to wander through endless crowds of children and pay $9 for a beer.]
Anyway, after the first night, it POURED. Like, Lorde was on stage in red sweatpants (right?) and in all her Kiwi Charm is like:
“Aw gnooo, I’m getting the gno from muh mana-jar! Looks like we huv ta stewp the show! I love you awl!”
I had only planned to watch about 30 mins of the show (because I’m old and it was a Thursday), so I bolted for the exit. My phone was getting wet in my pocket, but I read some article (read: a headline) on the Internet that said phones were waterproof now?
Anyway, I sprint the 7 blocks to the train.
Because I’m the worst, I kept trying to take a picture of myself soaking wet, which wasn’t working because my clothes were wet and my fingers were wet, and my phone was wet. So I was running my sopping wet hands over the phone trying desperately to take a pic so that I would always remember that night (read: post about it and make everyone think I was super fun and awesome for making it through the rain!)
I eventually got the picture and was glad to see that I look all of my 32 years and like a zombie in the CTA station lighting.
I get home and dry off, then take my phone out of its case so it can dry.
Guess how long it took for me to drop it and shatter the screen?
If you said 3 minutes – you’d be way over. It may have been 30 seconds.
The screen explodes and I’m just like “That’s about right. This is what happens to olds when they try to go to concerts.”
I wasn’t too upset, however, because I remembered that I had upgraded to the Super Premium Deluxe Ultra Mega Premium (Again) Phone Insurance at T-Mobile. It was fresh in my head, because they had like surcharged the upcharge of the activation charge of the ultra charge on my last bill.
“Yuh, so like, you have to pay for the month of the month that you turned on the activation then there’s the fee for like having us charge the fee for like the second premium and the deluxe – it’s in the terms.”
But then I was praising the name of the T-Mobile god as I realized that I could get a new phone for just the exorbitant service fee that you have to pay for having the insurance.
The next day I get into work and I call T-Mobile right away.
“If your phone is broken say ‘Broken.’”
“Broken.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t get that.”
It was only after I was transferred to an operator that I realized that my phone mic was fried, too from being carried around in the rain.
As Lorde would say: “Oh gnnnoooo!”
The lady at the Apple store said I was maybe the 30th person who’d come in that day with the same problem.
“I wasn’t drunk!” I felt the need to explain. And threw in: “And my phone as a HUGE processor, too..
"…did have. RIP.”
The Genius (that’s what they call people at Apple – geniuses… I feel like that’s right on par with people at Subway being called Sandwich Artists) goes on to say that 1 girl came in and just handed her $300 cash.
“She must have a rich daddy!” she said.
“I’m pretty sure anyone under 18 at Lolla is a soulless, rich asexual bud of a suburban mom with a bad haircut, who will probably be my boss/senator some day.”
In the end, my phone was fixed, I got all my contacts updated, and I have had it for 3 hours without dropping it once. I still have 11 months to go and 1 more claim.
I’m really blaming all this on Lorde as, allegedly, her newest album is about a witch and she was trying to conjure spirits at the concert. I’m not saying, but if you looked in her red sweatpants you’d find a beat up, rose gold iPhone 7 that use to belong to yours truly.