A euglogy to my broken iphone

My broken iphone

It was November 2008 when we were contracted to each other. We met in the Apple Store in Mission Viejo. An apple matchmaker, Ronny, I think was his name, took my information and our whirlwind relationship began. I promised to pay each month and she promised to ride in my pocket and turn on each time I pushed her home button.  

 I dropped her onto the black asphalt in the mall parking lot the day we met. Luckily I was quick enough to kick my foot out so she landed on my shoe and nothing happened. It was nerve-wracking – only an omen for what was to come. 

We had good times. I talked her ear off driving on the freeways and learned to spin her on my finger while I sat at my desk at work. I wiped her face clean on my pant leg when she got greasy. 

She had a tortured relationship with my wife. Sam would leave her in her purse in the car overnight sometimes. She’d die. I’d have to revive her. Then there was the terrible accident at the mall in February. Sam dropped her from her ear to the glossy tile floor and fractured her face permanently.  

Thing’s were never the same after the accident. I didn’t wipe her clean anymore and although she worked I couldn’t see what she said in her text messages. 

So finally I replaced her with the new, younger model. Sadly, she’ll sit in a drawer until my kids find her. Then she’s really done for. 

Thank you fair iphone. We had some good times.

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