I just got my work cell phone in the mail.
It’s a snazzy, touch-screen phone. I had been calling it the “the poor man’s iPhone,” until I saw its hefty price tag. (Let’s just say I’m grateful that work is paying for it.)
The phone can load your e-mail, take pictures and video, give you driving directions, and tell you the weather.
And it can also humiliate you.
When everyone asked me how I liked the phone, I could only respond, “I’d like it more if I could figure out how to turn the darn thing on!”
I consulted the directions, located the power switch, and charged it for hours. And still, nothing.
Finally, I scooped up the phone and the box with all the accessories, and I brought it to the store. And with my pride decreasing every second, I handed everything to the clerk and asked, “Um, how do I turn this on?”
She told me that I needed to put in the battery first. Before I could process that thought, she had already popped it in and handed the phone back to me, smiling.
And then I said, “So all those hours I spent charging the phone….?"
“…yeah, that did nothing,” she finished my sentence.
I have no shame. But at least I have a working phone now.