Tuesday, February 2, 2016

Where Have I been? The Phone

This was going to be a post about the house. With pictures. But then I lost the pictures because you see, around Halloween, I dropped my phone, and not just a little, "oopsie," the screen basically shattered. Thank goodness, I had that screen protector. Not to protect the screen apparently, but to keep the little shards together and protect my finger from getting cut by them.

I used it like that for a few months because one, I had just gotten the glass replaced at one of those mall kiosks before the break and hated to spend more money on it, and two, I went to the Apple Store during Christmastime and quickly ran away when I saw the crowd. I finally went back, and well, here is my Yelp Review about the experience, a delightful second person narrative.

You walk in. You tried to come in once before, but it was a weekend and you could barely get past the doors. Tonight is a Monday night. The entrance is deceptively clear. You're greeted by a chipper, red-shirted girl who asks what you need. You say you made a service appointment. She leads you up the thin aisle, between tables neatly set with Apple products. The deeper you go into the store, the more crowded it becomes. The long, thing room seems to shrink around you.

You are introduced to another person in a red shirt with an iPad. You tell him you made a service appointment. He taps away on his screen and you fidget from foot to foot. Are there more people in here than there were a minute ago? Loud voices bounce off the metal walls and jab you like prodding fingers.

He tells you no "geniuses" are available at this time. You snicker at the pompousness Apple has at calling their store associates "geniuses" and wonder how he can say it with a straight face. You're told to sit at a crowded table with the others and wait your turn.

As always, in waiting situations, you turn to your trusty iPhone. Names are called (not yours) and you wonder why they bother making appointments when they make you wait longer than you do at the doctor's office. You check Facebook. Again.

More names are called (not yours) and more people crowd into the store. A bead of sweat rolls down your cheek. You can feel the anxiety setting in. This would be your own personal hell if they started feeding you brussel sprouts and made you watch Fox News as well.

You start to hate yourself for allowing yourself to be treated like cattle all for the sake of this tiny, handheld computer. Ten years ago you lived very happily without it. Now you wait in a long, thin sarcophagus and fidget like an expectant puppy at the shelter for you to be chosen by one of the "geniuses".

Finally, your name is called. You meet with a bearded, 24-year-old hipster with an iPad. He asks you some questions. You answer them. He runs a diagnostic to tell you what you already know, your phone is broken. You're also screwed. There's nothing they can do except sell you another one.

He tells you at least he didn't make you wait an hour and half to tell you that, like you should be happy they're trying to rip $600 from your pocket now, instead of 2 hours from now. You bite your tongue to keep from swearing at him. It's not his fault. He's just another cog in the machine. You take your broken phone and storm out of there.

You're happy to finally be free, but you're also angry that they won't fix your phone. You swear you're going to get a Samsung, or something else, but you know that's not true. You also know it won't solve the problem. No matter what phone you get, you'll have to sign up for 2 years of service. You'll always be owned by someone unless you move to a cabin in the woods and live a self-sufficient, disconnected life as a hermit. But you also know that won't happen. So you leave, feeling angry, disappointed, degraded and disgusted with yourself that you're going to let them win. You're going to pay the $600 dollars, and you're going to continue to be a slave to the technology machine.


But you're going to order the phone online, because by God, you are never going into that store again.

As you can see, it didn't go well, so I had to bite the bullet and get a new phone. From AT&T, not the Apple Store. I had done my iCloud back-up, but when I restored my files, not everything came through. I lost most of my pictures AND a good chunk of my 90's mix. (So sad!) To top that off, the computer we had it all backed up on was stolen when our house was broken into right before we moved. Bad luck, huh? Overall, though, I've tried to be positive. We still might be able to get the pictures off the Cloud onto a new computer, and at least I didn't have any nudies there.