iDiot

Recently, after three years of lugging around the technological dinosaur (a.k.a. the iPhone 3G) I re-signed away my telecommunication rights and $180.00 for another three years of costly and somewhat desultory cellphone service. In exchange for my renewed allegiance at some point within the next 30 days I would be receiving the amazing iPhone 4.

Oddly the new phone arrived in the mail just a day and a half later. I opened the box an admired it’s newness, it’s sleek updated design, it’s crystal clear resolution, the feel of it in my hand and of course all of the new earth changing scientific know-how within. Personally, I never dreamed of a day when I would have the ability to set different images of my Abs on both the “Home” and “Lock” screens simultaneously!

My old phone lay there looking dejected, it’s sad scratched face, it’s broken camera and incontinent random ringer. iSnubbed my nose at it’s 2008ness, iPffft at it!

I plugged in the SIM card and called my provider anxious to have my au courant device activated. Success! What a smooth transition I thought, the phone had arrived promptly, there was no run around with activation, and to top it all off the following day marked the start of ten days of summer holidays. What brilliant timing, just me and my new phone and the open road, I’m going to slap the Fat Face app on anyone who crosses my path for the next two weeks I reckoned!

The next morning my phone and I hit the road. Two ferry rides later we reached our destination. I will call my sister and let her know I’ve arrived in town I thought. Seconds later my sister picked up, “Hello” she said sounding a million miles away. “Hello, hello, can you hear me?” I replied. “I’m here, I can hear you” she said again. “You sound like you are are under water” I told her. “Weird, I can hear you fine” she said.

Initially I didn’t get my gonch in a knot, I figured perhaps my “City Fido” may just be giving the proverbial Angry “Bird” to my geo-location. Unfortunately I was wrong! For the next two weeks every call I received including test calls within the same room had me straining to make out each and every word. I bitched about it to anyone who would listen. Luckily, and strangely I thought, when I put callers on speaker phone I could hear them just fine?. Nonetheless I had had enough, this was unacceptable and I would be taking Fido to task upon my return.

The day I got back I made that call, our conversation went as follows…

customer service: “mumble mumble mumble mumble”

me: in a polite but assertive voice, “My phone isn’t working, you will have to speak up as i can barely hear you!”.

customer service: barely audible, “I can hear you fine, how can we help you today Mr. Evans?”

me: “Yeah well I can’t hear you and I’ve only had this phone for two weeks and I want to know what you are going to do about it!?”

20 minutes of tunnel talk later I deduced that I needed to take my phone in to any Fido store and that they would gladly sort me out in the flesh.

Skeptical, I picked up the phone typed “Fido” into the map app and started walking in the suggested direction. As I neared the store I began to prepare myself for the inevitable battle over what exactly happened to my phone and who was going to be responsible to fix it. I pulled my shoulders back puffed out my chest, walked in and took my place in line. A few minutes later a calmly looking woman called me up to the desk and asked how she could help me. Presenting my phone to her I explained how I had only had this phone for two weeks and that I had been away for those two weeks and that because of that I hadn’t had much reason to make any calls but that when I did I couldn’t hear people’s voices and that it was like communicating through one of those tin can and string phones we made as children except that people on the other end seemed to have no problem hearing me just fine. I took a breath.

“Oh well we can’t have that” she said, “Can I have a look at your phone sir?”. I passed her my phone, she gave it a quick scan, flipped it over and promptly began to peel off the manufacturers protective cellophane cover I had left on it’s flawless new face. “No No don’t remove that, I’ve purposely left that there until I find a sweet case worthy of protecting it”. If you remove that they wont believe that I’ve kept the phone pristine and I…I…I’m an iDiot.

Communication barrier

In my defense, and after having the calmly woman call me from across the room to pound the final nail into my iDiot coffin, she explained to me that this was normal, that others had made the same mistake and that indeed on past versions of the iPhone a small slit was cut out right where anyone in their right mind would imagine you might HEAR from!

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2 Responses to “iDiot”

  1. Dawne Says:

    Aww. iSad for you.
    Happy ending.

  2. Leslie Says:

    That is funny!!!!!!

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