anti virus docSometimes I think things happen for no other reason than to provide me with a rant. Suffice to say, yesterday was no exception.
The day began innocently enough. I went to my dad’s office to show his apartments to prospective renters. After unlocking the apartments (which are conveniently located next to dad’s office), I noticed several cans and bottles in the yard and set out to pick up the trash. After picking up after the litter bugs, I went into the office to wash my hands and placed my cell phone on the sink counter.
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve done this – only that I won’t be doing it again. Because I knocked my cell phone off the counter, where it took a bee line for the toilet. I followed my knee-jerk reaction and dove after it, later being thankful that the toilet was flushed – and since I was in a physician’s office, I held a certain level of faith in the toilet’s cleanliness.
Anywho, this whole episode transpired in no more than three or four seconds, clearly landing within the parameters of the five-second rule. Maybe there would be as much hope for the phone as there were paper towels to dry it off.
Or maybe the moisture would build almost immediately, rendering my dear Blackberry as useless as a dead landline. Don’t misunderstand – at that point my phone appeared to be working. In fact, it rang. Unfortunately, there was no way to answer it. Nor was there a way to check the emails that already totaled 23.
It was probably about that time that I felt a sense of sheer panic wash over me – no way to call anyone, no way to access my list of contacts, no way to send an S.O.S. text to anyone who’d listen, and no way to get to a Verizon store in short order.
Flash forward about two hours, to my arrival at the cell phone shop, only to find my most favorite store manager, Rachel, at lunch. It wasn’t that no one else could help. It was just that I wanted to talk to my friend. But at this point, we were at DEFCON 4 1/2.
I listened to my options: make an insurance claim, pay $50 plus shipping, etc; switch to my daughter’s old phone, which is hanging around for times just like this – for an EMERGENCY; or I could get an early upgrade for 20 bucks, not including the $29.99 for a new Blackberry, after the $100 rebate.
I chose option four. Which is where you may want to take notes. I brought the phone home, took out the battery (again) and grabbed the hairdryer. After about five minutes of blow-drying my phone, I went to the kitchen and pulled out the Uncle Ben’s Long Grain and Wild Rice, dumped it into a baggie and sealed my phone and battery inside. Then I prayed the cell phone prayer.
To my surprise, all of the moisture on the phone screen had evaporated after about six hours. To my dismay, the phone is still not working (although it turns on, rings and retrieves my emails and texts).
Apparently, these little tricks have been known to work before. But this is me we’re talking about, so I’d advise all of you to quit holding your breath.
If I had the capacity to be rational about this whole ordeal, I’d be well-served to realize that I am addicted to my smart phone – not to mention my computers, and every other tech-savvy gadget I own. I’d take the time to reflect on the fact that, 20 years ago, cell phones barely existed, not to mention the internet. I made it through just fine back then. I can make it through now.
But we can talk about that later. Right now, I’ve got to get to the Verizon store. I need a new phone. And I must have it NOW.