So this happened:
Did you know the sound of an iPhone screen hitting cement sounds remarkably similar to the sound of eggs cracking? The lovely marimekko case I have for this phone, which Husband got for me in response to the fit of nostalgia I had in the New York marimekko store, is pretty but like so many pretty things is utterly impractical. Ol’ marimekko should stick to prints & stripes & fantastic housewares because this groovy case? Sucks. There’s no little ridge around the top to prevent the screen from whacking the ground. And without the little ridgey-bit? Smashety-crackety crack crack.
Props to Apple, though: the screen was smashed but the phone still worked. But I started keeping it first in a baggie and then in an ill-fitting plastic pouch, out of fear that some tiny shard of glass would work its way into my ear drum. Glass shard phobia led me to think to myself, “self, why not get yourself an iphone 5 because glass & ear canals are an unhappy partnership.” So myself takes myself to the Etisalat kiosk at one of the malls around here (Etisalat, for those of you not in the know, is the UAE equivalent of Verizon. Or Sprint. Or ATT. Or whatever local branch of hell serves your particular cable needs).
Yep, that’s what I did. I went to the kiosk and got a new phone. End of story.
Think again, grasshopper.
You know what? These types of things barely seem easy in the States. You wonder sometimes, “Am I the first person to ever speak to them about a phone . . . in this phone store?” I can’t imagine your ordeal. Ellen
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