It’s spreading like a nasty rash. It’s more unstoppable than a mob of rabid Justin Bieber fans. No one knows where it’s come from but the invasion of the iPhone has well and truly arrived.
As the sole survivor of my group to not possess the magical gizmo, I felt compelled to vent.
It’s not the actual iPhone that makes me mad, it's iPhone owners. My fists ball up, my finger nails dig into my palms and my knuckles turn white when one casually whips out their shiny new toy, pointing out each and every feature, every new app, everything that my phone doesn’t have. Not only that, iPhone users have no respect for their iPhones, if I had a dollar for every iPhone screen I’ve witnessed that is severely cracked I’d have about 50 dollars (I know that’s not a lot of coin but for a part-time uni student, it sure goes a long way). A little piece inside of me dies each time I see an iPhone carelessly dropped resulting in a feathery crack, I can’t help but think ‘If that was my iPhone I would smother it with tender love and care, polish the screen every day and only handle it with cotton gloves'.
Although even with a cracked screen, the iPhone is still better than my piece of shit. In comparison to the sleek, light weight yet resilient iPhone, my phone looks like it was designed by monkeys. Blind monkeys. Blind monkeys with no hands. Don’t get me wrong, the old Nokia does the job. It makes phone calls, sends messages, takes photos and browses the net. All I could ever need in a phone, right? Wrong. I need a phone that is more or less like a personal assistant. A phone that can:
1. Stop making drunken phone calls to people I don’t want to/ shouldn’t talk to (Drunk Dialer- requires the user to hold the phone still while they dial a number, if you’re swaying drunkenly, then the phone will block you from tapping in a number.)
2. Can scan barcodes and tell me where I can buy the said item cheaper (Barcode scanner).
3. Can make me look fatter, older, like I have a black eye (Fatbooth, Age your face and Punch).
(Note- the iPhone can do all three of the above, not a word of a lie. See, this is why I need an iPhone!)
My phone stands out like a sore thumb. If phones were children, the iPhone would be the popular kid- not only possessing beauty but brains too. My phone would be the kid picked last in team sports, the kid nobody wanted to be friends with.
I guess it’s just a case of learning to appreciate what you have. My phone’s reliable. It’s like a cockroach- it could outlast a nuclear attack. No matter how many times I drop it, it just won’t break. **
And do you know what the sad thing is? After all that, I still wish I had an iPhone. What can I say? iPhone fever is contagious and easily spread. All it takes is one user to present the nifty new app they just downloaded for the cheap price of $3.99 that brushes their teeth for them, cooks them dinner or walks the dog for the iPhone itch to begin. And believe me, once the itch sets in, it spreads like wildfire.
** Note: Ironically, two whole days after I wrote this piece, the good, old reliable, never die Nokia well and truly carked it. Hello, shiny new iPhone!
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