Saturday I dropped my “basic” cell phone on the tile floor. The back flew in one direction, the sim card in another. I put it back together again and…nothing happened.
It had died.
On one hand I didn’t care. I never liked it–well, except for the sliding keyboard that let me text—but I had so much trouble turning it off. I used to resort to slapping it, something that amused Banjo Man and my children. I would see them exchanging looks and rolling their eyes. I didn’t care, because I only used it when traveling, because back in Rhode Island we live in a Dead Cell Phone Zone, where nothing gets through. I forget I even own the darn thing.
A broken cell phone would not have been stressful except that I was to pick up Banjo Man at the airport 100 miles away later in the afternoon. We were going to take advantage of the Cell Phone Lot for the first time. We had a plan: I would wait for Banjo Man’s call and then drive right up in front of the airport and whisk him into the car.
We were both looking forward to this because I always get lost trying to park at this particular airport. I won’t tell you how many times I have tried to navigate the parking situation–it is too embarrassing–but I liked the idea of not having to park. Just in case, though, I had a sandwich bag filled with quarters for the outdoor meters.
But a couple of hours before I was supposed to start my trek west, I had no cell phone. Which meant I had to stop in town at the local Verizon store and get one (or have to get to the airport early enough to park… and repark…and repark). My Samsung was officially declared dead by the sweet young girl behind the counter, and then she told me that I could have a free I-phone (last year’s model, I’m sure) if I extended my contract for the rest of my life (or until I was hauled off to a nursing home).
No problem, I said, totally giving up on years of resolve to avoid the smart phone trend. The I-phone was “free” and the basic phones started at $169 (refurbished).
I was hooked.
So now I can take pictures and put them on Facebook.
(Don’t hold your breath).
I can do Face Time, once I figure out what that is.
I can check the weather.
And my email.
And I can terrorize my grown children by sending selfies!!!