![](https://www.elinornauen.com/rails/active_storage/representations/redirect/eyJfcmFpbHMiOnsibWVzc2FnZSI6IkJBaHBBNGh0QVE9PSIsImV4cCI6bnVsbCwicHVyIjoiYmxvYl9pZCJ9fQ==--ff7f120e5a350eb2e8dcf8c7ad6af6afaa7be655/eyJfcmFpbHMiOnsibWVzc2FnZSI6IkJBaDdCem9MWm05eWJXRjBTU0lJYW5CbkJqb0dSVlE2RkhKbGMybDZaVjkwYjE5c2FXMXBkRnNIYVFMZ0FXa0M0QUU9IiwiZXhwIjpudWxsLCJwdXIiOiJ2YXJpYXRpb24ifX0=--d00c0b801be2eac628730b2b4ffb891cbdd69dfe/my_flip_phone.jpg)
Not an iPhone... I'll miss that pony-hide cover Maggie brought me back years ago from Wyoming "in case you ever get a cellphone."
My tale of woe & redemption begins with my office phone going out. Verizon (boo) sends a repairguy. He reluctantly & slowly tries a couple of fixes then basically tells me to fuck off. I know that Verizon (hiss) has no real interest in fixing copper wires/landlines—they're expensive to maintain & fewer & fewer people have 'em.
He leaves, promising to come back the next day.
Verizon (jeer) also tells me to fuck off: the next available appointment is actually more than a week away. They act like they are my friend.
I go up the block, & an hour later my office number has been converted to a cell, & I am the owner of an iPhone. I guess that means putting my little workhorse 10-year-old flip phone to rest, eh?
Welcome to the future! I mean the past! I have a smartphone! Call me!
He leaves, promising to come back the next day.
Verizon (jeer) also tells me to fuck off: the next available appointment is actually more than a week away. They act like they are my friend.
I go up the block, & an hour later my office number has been converted to a cell, & I am the owner of an iPhone. I guess that means putting my little workhorse 10-year-old flip phone to rest, eh?
Welcome to the future! I mean the past! I have a smartphone! Call me!