Am I phone jinxed or am I just a spaz? Isn’t that a fun debate? I ask myself that question each time I stare at a water-logged or cracked cell phone that has died in my care! The latest incident was about a week ago when I thought I safely placed it on my fireplace mantle only to watch helplessly as it pummeled and smashed its face on the tile below. I carefully scooped up my little techo-bundle and turned it over to reluctantly peek at its shattered face staring sadly back at me. I had done it again! I killed another phone!
Oddly though, this time instead of racing for a replacement phone, I tried to use it for a time before I called the phone insurance company. Why didn’t I just retire it and get a new one? Well, the likely reasons are that subconsciously I was hoping I could restore it to its original shape and wish away the damage I had done, and that I just didn’t want to face the jeers of friends when they found out that my dead phone-body count had now climbed to 7! Regardless, after many lacerations on my fingers from grazing the cracked glass on the front of the device, I gave in and called to claim my replacement. The call went something like this: “Mam, is this about your August claim?”, the confused woman asked. “Uh, no, this is a new claim.”, I sheepishly had to admit. And then, the admonishment came with a sting, “Mam, this will be the last claim you can make; you have reached your limit.” UGH! I did it again! I reached my limit within another calendar year! No more replacements for me! Somehow as we spoke I envisioned her staring at my picture on a bulletin board with a red circle and line through it! I am sure she knew who I was!
So, as I sit by the front door and wait for my new-but actually refurbished phone to arrive, I have a lot of time for introspection. Do I have some kind of voodoo curse following from me phone to phone? I did use a cell phone once when I was in a voodoo shop in New Orleans so maybe it is possible. Or, is the phone death toll more a reflection of my crazy life? I run in a hurried pace everywhere I go and the law of averages has to catch up at some point and make me stop in my tracks. Apparently, that law for me just happens to reside in a 3″ x 5″, handheld device! Every phone death is a reminder to me to just slow down! That being said, I guess I have answered my original question and I have to go with the spaz label, and the sad lessons learned when you are one. I would call and tell you all about it but, well…you know…that’s not possible at the moment!