A couple of years ago, Ron surprised me with an iPhone 4S for Christmas. Right off the bat, I hated S. I still can't say her name without it sounding like a growl. Siri.
For 2 years I cursed her name but became completely enamored with the phone that housed her. That is until recently when my beloved phone began screwing with me.
I'm sure you can relate when I tell you that the majority of my life is in that phone. Everyone I know, both personally and professionally, have only my iPhone to thank (or blame) that I'm able to call or text them because they're under my contacts. My entire list of massage clients, as well as my schedule of appointments is in my calendar. Every Zumba song I've ever known and the separate playlists for each of the 3 locations I teach, are under my music app. And every thought, brainstorm, quote and idea are listed in my notes for future writing projects.
Yep, my entire career is in that phone.
So when that phone takes on a mind of it's own, begins rearranging my playlists, blanking out my schedules and randomly shutting down to "update" itself, I'll go to Verizon and trust that Tristan with the clipboard won't wipe away my identity and cancel my very existence on this earth.
One should never be so trusting...and one should never put herself into the hands of a salesman with a clipboard on the heels of a celebratory half-price margarita from Texas Roadhouse.
His first question seemed simple enough as he pointed to my 4S.
"Is that cracked?"
I said, "Nope" as I beamed with pride at having managed to make it 2 years without cracking my cell phone, which must be a pretty big deal for him to even ask such a question. I've also managed to bring 4 kids into the world.
That's when he lowered the boom with his offer to buy back my phone for $200 in exchange for upgrading me to the iPhone 5S. The part of my brain that hadn't been impaired with margarita smelled a trap, but before it could speak up, a voice said, "OK!" Enter Chuckles...loving husband and designated driver. Tristan's face lit up as he picked up on Ron's super-agreeable vibe. I quickly interrupted his salivating and said, "Wait a minute. I need a guarantee that I'm not going to lose any of my information in the transfer." He replied, "You'll get it all back. Just don't come beat me up if you don't." Aaaahhhh...Tristan with the clipboard has now picked up on my vibe, as well.
Twenty minutes later, it was all said and done. My 4S sat on the counter, wiped clean of my entire life, and I walked out of Verizon the owner of a new and improved iPhone 5S, which required the purchase of an all new phone cover, wall charger and car charger but was fully loaded...with everything except my schedule, my notes, my Zumba songs, and my playlists...for a grand total of $197.00, leaving a whopping $3.00 from his generous offer to apply toward our next bill. As an added bonus, my new phone doesn't fit my Zumba speakers and I had to buy a $30 converter.
Now I'm no math wiz, but by my calculation, Tristan with the clipboard owes me $27.00, 59 Zumba songs, and 15 story ideas, not to mention my dignity for all the massage clients I had to call asking when their next appointment was scheduled.
Thanks to Ron for spending countless hours at the computer, many understanding clients, my wonderful Zumba instructor and a decent memory, I have reloaded my 5S with as much of my information as possible.
Bottom line; I'm stuck with this new S, I want nothing more than to go back there and kick his, and I already have a game plan for next time.
Go ahead and ask me. "Is that cracked?"
You're damn right it is.
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