Eleven thirty last Friday night, the phone rang.
I said to Mr. Ginley, "This can't be good."
It was our son, reporting that his cel phone had croaked. Into the wee hours of the morning, he would work with a technician, who told him all of the things to do that didn't help. The phone was officially deceased.
In light of how tethered our son is to his device, we decided it would be best if we schlepped to his side of town and took him and his phone to the store.
My first mistake was in not scoping out exactly where the store was. Our kid said he had directions. In his defense, he didn't say he had the most direct directions. So, we meandered our way in a manner that would have delighted Jeffy from Family Circus until we arrived at our destination. Which was located right next to the freeway that would have gotten us there in half the time.
Mr. Ginley decided he did not want to participate. He does not like to get involved in matters of technology because they just irritate him. So off he went, book in hand, to Wendy's, to read and eat, while my kid and I stormed the Bastille in pursuit of the best deal.
The trouble was, the plan was two weeks from its expiration date. Begging, pleading and threatening to go to the competitor did no good. They would not give us a new phone. We had three options:
1. Go two weeks without a phone. (Not really an option.)
2. Let them send his phone to the factory (probably overseas) and get a refurbished phone in a couple of days. There was a caveat with this one. If they opened up the phone and the tech found any indication of water damage, we would be billed $200. We looked at each other, and I knew we were envisioning the same thing: some guy in China with a water bottle, spraying the phone and murmuring, "Yes, I see evidence of water in this phone." So that option was a pass.
3. Take advantage of their newest scheme, whereby you "lease" a phone. The upshot is, you buy the phone on time for a ridiculous amount but supposedly without interest (it's built into the cost). You wind up paying the same amount each month, which is how they sell it. And if you have any problems, you can bring it back and trade it in for a new one. We decided this was the least of the evils, albeit Hobson's choice, and agreed to go with it.*
Somewhere, my Dad was shaking his head in disappointment. I knew this. But I also knew I didn't want to spend another hour in that store and my kid needed a phone, stat.
At the end of this emotional drawing and quartering, the salesperson informed me that, "Oh, by the way, your first bill will include the taxes on the phone. A one-time charge." How much? $45. Nice touch. A final thrust through the ribs to seal the deal.
Once the deed was done, we took our son back to school. We didn't take the side streets because he wanted to show us the house where he will probably be living next year. As we turned onto the main street, my husband cried out and pointed to the unmistakable logo on a storefront located minutes from campus. Apparently, it's a new store, not even listed on the internet yet.
The good news is, when my son has issues the next time, we won't have to slog across town to help him.
On the way home, I came to a decision.
My next phone will be a Jitterbug.
*Those of you who are baby boomers will recall that Ma Bell used to "lease" her phones. Every month there was an equipment charge on your bill. It was a big deal when they decided you could actually buy your phone. Somehow, it didn't seem to lower the price of the monthly bill. What comes around goes around?
