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‘Why I’m a Bit Useless’, Part 2 (or ‘The Frustrating Search for a New Phone’)

10 May

Last Saturday I arrived back at my term time house in Leicester. I’d managed to find a quicker route on the train and arrive back an hour early, so I could enjoy a leisurely walk back to my house in the glowing warmth of the sun. It was beautiful. And things only got better from there, waiting for me was my ordered copy of the new ‘Amazing Spider-Man #1’ and my much desired new sim-card. This sim had inadvertently been causing me trouble for a week now; I’d been stressed, angry and filled with a bleak outlook on everything (there were other factors of course, I don’t just get this worked up over phones). But despite that previous bracketed comment, this is far from the first time I’ve been truly angry at a phone or mobile company, and it surely won’t be the last.

Where last I left off, I detailed how I had risen like the phoenix in terms of phone models, before swiftly plummeting back down to earth through my drunken blunders. I was left with a £10 ‘brick’ phone that couldn’t be destroyed. Constantly taunting me for my past mistakes, an invincible reminder of everything I hated about myself.

And so, in our time together, I pushed the limits of how indestructible the phone claimed to be. I dropped it more times than I can count; so much so that the back of the phone can barely stay on any more, which of course just causes me more frustration, but in the end, it was fine.

Me and my friends played catch with it in our free Sixth Form periods, still, it was fine.

I accidentally lost it outside in the rain after a night out for two days. Again, it was fine.

My friend held a lighter to the bottom; it melted some of the plastic and temporarily disabled the microphone. But in the end? It was fine. It just wouldn’t die. The one phone I wanted to leave me in peace, and it followed me like the plague. Eternal.

It was a long two years, but eventually I found the light at the end of the tunnel.

Illumination of the Nokia Lumia

My contract on the Sony Ericsson was up, and it was finally time for a new phone. This time with insurance. I had learnt my lesson, and was ready to begin anew. I was attracted to the simplistic design of Windows 8, and as such, decided that a Lumia was the way to go. Two years after purchasing the Sony Ericsson, I returned to the same Carphone Warehouse, where my mum coaxed me into telling the salesman what happened to my old phone. Embarrassing? A little, but in the end, I came out with something far superior.

For the next two years, people continuously told me that Windows was a poor operating system for a phone, and berated me for not choosing Android. Now stuck with my choice, I argued that Windows was every bit as capable as Android was. Of course, that was a lie, and now that I once again have a new (Android) phone, I am free to admit it.

But once again, it was a long two years. I was headed off to uni; friends were going their separate ways, and some people I would never see again. So I spent my summer determined to spend time with everyone. Unfortunately, on my last night with my friend Oliver, my new Nokia met its death after falling out of an apron onto a hard brick floor. We were helping our friend Bella close up a pub where she worked, and having applied for a job there numerous times, I took my chance to step behind the bar and pretend to be a barman. I didn’t touch anything of course; I just wore an apron and looked majestic in my sleek black apron… which I stupidly left my phone in when I went to the toilet, not warning Bella who was about to put it away.

It was month three of my contract, and I had already broken it.

£50 later, I had a replacement. And three months later, it was broken again. This time, it was New Years Eve, and I was rather merry, dashing about hugging people as the clock struck twelve. Noticing my friend Aleo in the crowd, I dashed forward for a hug, accidentally flinging my phone onto the pavement. What a mess.

£50 later, I had a replacement. Again, three months. This time, it just fell off my table with the charger in. Still worked fine, but a component inside was slightly out of place. I didn’t feel so bad about that one.

£50 later, another replacement. I’m not sure how long this one lasted, no more than four months, surely. This time, I was visiting my friend Lauran, and we hit up a local club. I had no intention of going out, but her and her friends treated me to shots and wine, and before I knew it, I was passed out on my bedroom floor, no phone, no wallet, no idea what was going on.

After that, the reality started to set in. I always knew I was a bit of a mess, but as I sat on the top of the fire escape and looked into the distance, I knew something had to change. I was carelessly throwing away money, with no regard for the consequences. I promised myself I would be better.

£50 later, a new phone and a new outlook. This would be the one I looked after. And I did, in fairness. Until I returned home for the summer, and met a guy I knew from the local pubs. He’s a friendly guy, but can be rather imposing at times, and on this occasion, he was pretty wasted. Tottering over to me, he offered to teach me how to fight, and I, fearing he would beat me up if I said no, agreed. At first, it was playful, a few jabs to the stomach. Then suddenly I found myself flying over his shoulder as he launched me with some sort of judo flip, and I landed down on the pavement, phone in pocket, screen shattered.

Fortunately, the guy offered to pay for it. Not to me directly, as I didn’t have the heart to tell him, but a friend let slip a few weeks later, and I found myself with a new phone. By this point though, Nokia Lumia 800s were no longer being sold, and so I was upgraded to the 820.

But I had lost my patience by this point, and was tired of spending endless amounts of money paying to cover up my mistakes. Borrowing my friends old blackberry, I struggled on with that at my side instead, until about five months later, when I decided it was finally time to get another phone. But once again, my model was out of stock, and so £50 later, I found myself the proud owner of the HTC 8X.

I had forgotten just how good smart phones were; I cherished this phone, not taking it out on nights out; instead transferring the sim to my old ‘brick’ whenever drinking was a part of the picture.

That is until a month later. On what I expected to be a rather tame night, I went to a friends house for her birthday. All the other guys going had dropped out that day, and so I was now forced into the role of straight ‘gay best friend’, and once again, plied with drinks. We left the house and headed for the club. Six hours later, I remember walking across the park to get home at seven in the morning, my phone and clothes drenched.

I’ve gone off spirits somewhat since then…

Returning to the blackberry and ‘brick’, I struggled through the last few months of my contract, finally arriving in the present.

Taking responsibility, the new contract was put under my name, along with insurance and a case. I now own a Google Nexus 5, and it’s beautiful.

Not only that, I’ve finally found a weakness to the ‘brick’. It’s calender only goes up to the year 2098. Even though it will outlive me, it’s time & date will eventually be forever incorrect. I’ve won.

broken-phoneIt’s been an emotional journey. One that is definitely not over; so far, I’ve had trouble just ordering my Google contract. But everything’s sorted for now, and the expense was just a week of stress, anger, and a dent in my bedroom wall from losing my temper.

The moral of the story? Don’t trust me with technology. Or alcohol. Also, girls are a bad influence, but that one’s a given.

 

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Posted by on May 10, 2014 in Life

 

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