Bubbling blonde
Think about your wedding ring. Have you ever had that “scare” – you know what I’m talking about – where you look down and it’s not there? No? Well, you’re a lucky one. There’s nothing worse than glancing at your hand and realizing your shiny, diamond-encrusted symbol of love has gone MIA.
I wouldn’t know how this feels though, since I’m 26 and still living with my father, so let’s go to the next best thing – the cell phone. Not my dad’s cell phone (you know, the 2002 model of the “flip phone”), but my phone. A smart phone. A phone that costs several hundred dollars.
It’s the unwed person’s wedding ring, I always say. Don’t lose it! Or you’ll be sorry, especially if your significant other purchased it for you.
It’s true that every day is an ongoing struggle with my cell phone. No, I’m not talking about whether it decides to work or not, although that in itself could be another blog entry. I’m talking more about its owner… and her ability to keep track of the tiny little device. Or honestly, just keep it dry.
A couple weeks ago, I had the wonderful pleasure of dropping my phone in a sink full of water. I was attending a party, and upon entering the little girl’s room, realized I had put my cell phone in my back pocket for “safe keeping” and it needed to be removed before I went any further with my visit.
If you’ve ever seen the face of the Verizon worker following a “I dropped my cell in the toilet at a party” conversation, you’ll know never to openly admit your phone was dropped in a toilet ever again.
I feel bad for those Verizon workers. Really, I do.
Not only do they have to deal with technology that hasn’t properly been tested by the manufacturers prior to its release (because seriously, if it had, would that one version of the iPhone have needed a “bumper”?), but they have to deal with all of the individuals who attempt to operate this high-tech, yet constantly malfunctioning piece of machinery.
FYI: When it comes to operation, people usually fail. Or just drop it in a toilet.
But back to the party. This particular time in the lavatory, I was thinking ahead and removed the phone from my pocket before using the facilities. I set it in on the counter, went about my business, and washed my hands when I was through. And here’s what happened.
I grabbed the hand-drying towel next to sink. Of course, the towel happened to be sitting underneath my cell phone. Like most people with the cell-phone-in-the-back-pocket behavior, I had forgotten about my phone, and whipped the little sucker right into a sink that was still technically draining. I stood there, in shock, staring at my phone in the basin. It bubbled at me, mocking me.
Awesome.
I quickly grabbed the phone, disassembled it (which is harder than you think, especially when it’s dripping wet, and often requires a penny, a hex key, a spool of thread, and quite possibly a miter saw) and did what anyone who has ever “water damaged” their phone would do. I checked that little piece of litmus paper inside the battery compartment with the red X’s on it – when it’s wet, that little piece of paper turns pink. And mine was… oh, wow, really pink. Maybe it’ll be fine. Maybe nobody will notice.
So one dry towel, two bags of rice, a menacing look from the IT manager (did I mention this was a company phone? Yeah, I’m that good) and a partridge in a pear tree later, I was off the grid. When not at my office desk, I was virtually unreachable.
At first, it almost killed me. Literally. But like a caffeine addict slowly going through detox, the pain eventually went away. After a week, I kind of liked not being connected to everyone 24/7. When I was away from my office, I was truly away. I could do whatever I wanted and nobody needed to know. This was freedom.
But then the phone came back and of course, I immediately set up my Facebook, Twitter, Google+ and bank account, while simultaneously sending a mass text to everyone in my contacts, explaining why I had been missing for an entire week. The world was back to normal.
I lost that phone a week later, but let’s just say, thanks to my new boyfriend who was willing to backtrack throughout the entire south side of New Philadelphia, it was recovered, fully unscathed. I won’t tell you where the phone was found or the circumstances of how it got there, but I will tell you, it wasn’t “damaged” – water or otherwise – in any way shape or form. Disaster avoided.
But give it another week, and I’m sure to have another story for you all. Until next time!