About a month ago I dropped my iPhone. As I was getting out of my car, it fell from my lap and onto the driveway. The screen cracked.
Now—it didn’t seem that bad of a crack and there was no way I was going to visit one of those “We-Can-Fix-Your-Cracked-Screens” Kiosks at the mall. They charge well over one hundred dollars. I have better things to spend money that I don’t have on.
But over the course of a couple weeks, the crack worsened.
My crack never got this bad but let’s just say it grew to be pretty bad.
I went to my local ATT store at the mall to find out if I was eligible for a new phone. I wasn’t.
However, I remembered I have phone insurance. God forbid the ATT people actually remind me of that as they checked my account to tell me I was not eligible for a new phone.
And when I reminded the ATT people that I wanted to see if I could replace the phone, I was told I could, but I had to do so either online or via my cell phone.
I went home, went online, and couldn’t figure out the instructions for replacing the damaged phone because I needed a “passcode”. I never remembered even creating a passcode because it had never been mentioned to me by the good folks at ATT when I had my past phones.
After many naughty words spewed from my mouth, I called the number for assistance.
This is pretty much how I looked while spewing some well-deserved naughty words…
Thankfully, the assistance I received over the phone was stellar. I was told to create a passcode, which I did over the phone with the help of Jeanne from ATT. A new phone would be sent to me within 2 business days and I was to follow the instructions that came with the phone.
Fine.
Phone received on Friday.
When I opened the box, I immediately followed the instructions to charge the new phone. I could do that!
…and believe me, charging the phone was just about the ONLY thing I was capable of doing!
And having to work in Retail Hell on Friday and Saturday, I figured I would wait until Sunday to focus on setting up my new phone. After all, I’m not right in the head and I am also a very maniacal, crazy, over-reactive, emotional woman so it was best to not have any pressing matters come my way during phone set up day.
One cup of morning coffee down and in a productive mood, I started to read the remaining instructions. They seemed simple enough.
My instructions seemed pretty much simple and foolproof…
I proceeded to take my newly charged phone over to my computer. I successfully entered my Wi-Fi connection. Success was also measured in setting up the cute little generic icons. Uh oh. How come my really important icons such as Twitter, Instagram, Face Book, and other ones displaying my narcissistic nature weren’t transferred over?
Where’s the important shit stuff (Bonaparte made me correct my gutter language) like Instagram, Twitter and Facebook? How will be able to display my obnoxious and narcissistic personality to the world??
Back to the instructions.
Easy set up my ass!
I needed to get my Apple ID and passwords. WTF? I haven’t used them in over a year!!! *Sigh*
Pause as I sent emails to reset my user ID’s and passwords.
Back to the set up.
I’m constantly reminded as per instructions to return my old and damaged phone back to ATT within 10 days. Three days have passed and it appears that it just may take another week to figure all this out. And I’m leaving for France. This is not good. If I don’t take care of this soon, I’ll have a hefty penalty charge.
Yeah, I get the message that you want the phone returned!
I decided to call the ATT tech assistance phone number that was provided on the instructions. After prompting to the correct department, I didn’t get a human voice, but received a recording: “You have reached technical assistance.” “Our hours are Monday through Friday, 8AM through 5PM”.
I’m sure that most people who are having issues with technicalities on their phones do not have the time to call on Monday through Friday between those hours because they are at work! So they call on the weekends when nobody is available. Does this make sense?
Nobody is on the other end of the line to hear the nastiness that’s coming out of my mouth.
True dat. I can scream and curse at the top of my lungs but nobody but a recording is on the other line! Nobody can hear me because nobody is working!
After hanging up, I take another pause and realize that I’m smart enough to figure this out. Back to the instructions.
Ok. Unlike Stuart Smalley, one outta three ain’t bad. I’m pretty sure I’m smart enough!
I insert my phones to the USB chords and insert the chords into the computer. Now I’m going to try to switch data over from one phone to another.
There is an issue on my computer. I cannot make the switch because the computer doesn’t recognize my devices. The computer only recognizes Bonaparte’s account. WTF? All of a sudden my computer is Gallic?
All of a sudden the computer of “mime” is French?????
Now I’m going full-tilt boogie crazy!
I would say that I am in that outnumbered grouping!
I go back to the ATT site to see if there is a different solution. ATT wants my MEI number and my SIM card number.
I didn’t realize there were so many numbers on my phone. I find the MEI and it is NOT the MEI number that ATT has in their records. I am not able to change the MEI number on my computer and cannot submit anything. For some reason my Gallic computer is not recognizing my information and is blocking me from moving forward.
It is now almost 11:00 AM and I started this process over two hours ago.
Yeah! I have all the time in the world to set up my new phone. All the time in the world…….
I rip out both phones from the computer.
I pack throw both phones into the box in which the new phone was mailed to me.
I wonder how many people get to this point? I have NO idea how those chords became THAT tangled. I must have really thrown them curve-ball style into the box!
I go into the bathroom and wipe deodorant on my pits. I don’t even bother to wash my face. My hair is in the same braid that I wore to work the previous day. My mascara is smeared because, yes. I’m a slob!
I drive to the local ATT store. This time, I don’t go to the ATT store at the mall. I go to the one up the street from where I live.
Luckily I arrived just as the store opened. Nate and John, the two young men who work there, greet me.
Also luckily, Nate has helped me before with other issues so he knows what is in store. He didn’t run away!
Somehow Nate just doesn’t seem thrilled to see ME! He did a fantastic job in such a short time! Perhaps he and John were glad to get rid of me!
It took Nate all of twenty minutes to set up my iPhone.
I’m happy as a dirty little bottom crawler of a clam as I make my way home to finally bathe and play with my new phone.
Filthy hair, smeared mascara, dirty old slob but happy that my phone has been set up!
Until…..
Day Two:
I now have a couple of “Apple” issues and have to drive to the Apple store to take care of this. For some ungodly reason, I can’t email pics from my phone to my computer.
Take a good look. The Apple store is never this empty!
This is very important because we are going away and I need a backup to save my photos.
Wait! I have my digital camera!!! I can pack my camera! I go over to the desk where I keep my camera and it isn’t there.
Where did I put it?
I unpack all the stuff I so carefully placed into my carryon. The camera isn’t there. I go over to the little closet where I keep my sweaters and wigs (don’t judge) and random stuff. No camera.
And to think that I thought I was FINALLY organized. Another fine mess I’ve gotten myself into!
I go into our bedroom and search handbags, drawers and any crevice I can. No camera.
Now I panic because I’m 61 years old and my memory is going. My hypochondrium is building up.
The phone rings. It is Bonaparte.
He went to have my car inspected and he asks me, quite annoyed too, where the auto insurance card is.
My response is “WTF are you talking about?” “I didn’t get any insurance card!!!!!” “If I did, I would have put it in the car!!!!!!!”
Now Bonaparte is pissed. “Zuh cahrd sud be eeen zuh cahr.” “I em sur I gev eet to ou!” “Don’ worreeee”.
He hangs up and I’m crying.
I get dressed to go to the Apple store and am only thinking about my lack of memory. St. Anthony isn’t even coming through to help me find my memory.
St. Anthony, St. Anthony, please come around. My memory is lost and stuff cannot be found. Thanks big guy!
I’m crying and catch a glimpse of my hair in the mirror. It is filthy—my hair, not the mirror. And I notice that the dirt and grime in my hair has given me perfect beach waves! I snap a pic with the phone and post it to Instagram. True narcissism knows no boundaries! At least I can post to Instagram!
Despite how upset I was, when I saw these nice beachy waves I suddenly realized what a beauty asset filthy hair is. How could I not pause for Instagram?
Bonaparte arrives home and he’s no longer annoyed.
I tell him we need to take me to a doctor immediately because I am suffering from early dementia. I tell him my camera is lost along with the insurance card.
Bonaparte apologizes and tells me he is sorry but he packed my camera and the battery recharger into his suitcase.
Why did Bonaparte not tell me he packed my camera……
He also tells me that he knows where the insurance card is.
….and thanks for filing the auto insurance card away and making me think it was MY fault!
I get into my car.
I arrive at the Apple store just minutes before it opens for the day. The Apple man places me on a list and tells me it’ll be twenty minutes before they can see me but they will text me. Two minutes later I receive a text to come on in!
I am lead to the “Genius” table. (No kidding—that’s what it’s called). I’m guessing calling it the “Idiot” table” because that’s where all the idiots who have no clue are sitting’ is too politically incorrect. Call it what it is. I’m an idiot when it comes to setting up my cell phone. OK?
To all those parents who’s kids are in AP classes. I made it to the genius table! OK?? I hold bragging rights!
I explain that I am unable to email photos from my phone to my email address. Therefore I cannot send photos to my computer. I am told it is an issue with my Verizon server.
Try as she may, Eve, the Apple expert assists me in getting my Verizon email password figured out. Instead, I get locked out of my email account and the only way I can get back in is having Verizon call our home phone with a temporary password. Only problem is that I’m not home.
Eve, in the garden of Apple delights, tells me to go to the Verizon store down the road. Then she turns to Adam of Apple, whispers something to him and they both look at me as though I’m the poisonous serpent telling them to take a bite of the forbidden piece of fruit!
The Apple people may think I’m a slithery serpent, but all I want is to use my iPhone! Is that too much to ask?
I leave Apple and drive to the Verizon store. And I’m greeted by a pimply adolescent who tells me, after I explain my problem that the issue is with my Verizon server, he can’t help me. I’m at Verizon Wireless. I need Verizon Fios.
I tell him that “I am not right in the head and with every second that passes, I become less right in the head”. He becomes scared and calls a Verizon expert over.
This is the face that scared Verizon!
I tell the Verizon expert that Verizon sent a voicemail with a temporary password to my landline phone but I’m not home. She explains that the voicemail is on my home phone and the message will be there for 7 days.
I get home and stress eat melted mozzarella on a slice of rye bread. It is so mushy and delicious that I forget my phone issues for the ten seconds that it takes my gluttonous self to finish.
The message is, in fact, on our landline. I write down the temporary email address and reset my password on my email.
I’m thrilled because now I’ll be able to send pics from my phone to my home email.
I do a test and send a pic.
It didn’t work.
Later I’ll go back to see Nate at the ATT store. Right now—I just can’t.
Like the screen on my original iPhone, I’m also shattered!
Besides. I need to get a mani-pedi.
The nail place is in the same shopping center as ATT. So after my nails are done, I drop by to see my old friends Nate and John.
Are Nate and John hiding from me????
Nate is busy (which I’m sure he was thrilled about) and John tries, in vain to help me.
He explains to me that Verizon changed their server updates and many people were having issues, but Apple can fix the issues.
Unfortunately, I was the 1% that Apple could not help. More unfortunately, I’m in the wrong one percent.
It is now after 5 PM. I am NOT dealing with rush hour traffic in order to go to Apple. Again.
Instead, I go home and call Verizon FIOS.
After explaining the issues of the past 24 hours, I was instructed to go to my “settings” and was further instructed in what procedures I had to take in order to update the incoming and outgoing servers.
My phone is finally in working order.
Yet, somehow I’m waxing nostalgic for the old rotary phone we had growing up in Long Island. The days when we didn’t have passwords or user ID’s or passcodes or MEI and SIM card numbers.
Life was more simple back then when the entire family shared one phone. Oh the fights between my sisters and me over time spent on this little machine. Oh the locks that my dad put on it to stop my sisters and me from pulling each other’s hair out! I miss those days!
The only number we needed to remember was our phone number: Mohawk 5-2889.
How is it that I can still remember my childhood phone number and not the seven thousand passcodes/passwords/ID’s that I am now known by?
Like the screen on my original phone I’m…
“Shattered”!
