The Last Holdout
I still have a slide phone. A “dumb” phone. I bought it when I was pregnant with my kindergartener. It is red, has a full QWERTY keyboard, and smells permanently of maple syrup due to an aggressively eaten Waffle House breakfast last Christmas that I wish not to discuss. I hope this description helps to paint a clear picture in your mind. I cannot post an actual picture because, like I said, I still have a slide phone.
My initial resistance to getting a smartphone was born out of laziness. I had just replaced a flip phone with this syrupy little guy when smartphones became popular. I had just learned to text, and I couldn’t be bothered to switch again so soon. Once friends started saying, “Oh, you have to get an iPhone, you just have to get one!” I decided to dig in my heels. It became a sociology experiment of sorts. Watching people’s reactions to my crappy phone is more entertaining than anything up for sale in the App Store. Children say things like, “Hey, my meemaw has that phone!” Friends complain that the text messages I send arrive broken and out of order. When strangers see me texting, when they hear the “beep—beepbeep—beep” that my phone makes as I work the maple-flavored buttons of the keyboard, they smile. It is a subtle smile, the same smile that overtakes you when you see an elderly man use a cloth handkerchief instead of a disposable tissue. The smile that, here in the south, precedes the phrase, “Bless her heart.”
I an getting an iPhone. I ordered it today from a handsome young Verizon salesman who told me that the slide phone I am using is, “the last one still in existence,” and that it is “the same phone that Jesus used.” Just to make up for lost time, I am getting the 64 gigabyte version. The whole room got quiet when I asked for it. Everyone turned and looked at me like on movies when the record scratches and the music stops.
Handsome salesman: “64?! We don’t have that in stock.”
Me: “Can you order it?”
Handsome salesman: “Nobody ever gets that.” (subtext: What is a nice little lady like you going to do with all that storage?)
Me: (after calling Michele to make sure I was making the right decision) “I kind of have a lot of music, close to 30 gigs already. I want room to grow. I will be keeping this phone for a long time.”
Handsome salesman: (looking down at ol’ syrupy) “You’ll be using this phone until 2050. That is probably true. You want it in black or white?”
So there you have it. I am getting an iPhone. I am getting it in black, and I am getting it Thursday. The slide phone will be spending the next 48 hours doing all of his favorite things: draining his battery in three hours, getting recharged, going on long walks down the street in search of a signal, and smelling like breakfast.