Modern Love – The Update

It was a Tuesday. I reluctantly woke up, crawled out of bed, put on a pair of ratty sweatpants to walk the dog, unplugged my iPhone from the charger and tuned it back on.  And turned it back on? I stared at it in horror. The little phone that never failed or disappointed me was dead. Was that possible? An early morning death in the family? No, no don’t die. WAKE UP! I need you. Please if you wake up I’ll buy a lot of Apple stock. I started sweating and became rashy.

I won’t know where I’m going without you. You never got me lost or were mad when I missed a turn or off ramp. You’re so calm, patient and supportive in re-routing me. I love that we don’t argue even when I’m wrong. And you know what kind of restaurants I like and never suggest Indian food. Your movie choices are impeccable and don’t ever steer me towards Tom Cruise. You take flawless messages and don’t mind if I call screen and think I’m mean. You are agreeable and don’t care how many times I wear the same pair of sweat pants or complain that I’m watching Friends re-runs and not PBS. Don’t die! Don’t leave me. Come back to me little iPhone! You are more attentive, reliable and informative than any date or husband I’ve ever had. I threw myself on my bed in a fit of despair and burst into tears.

I naively believed my cell phone and I were a “til death do us part” relationship. Was I mistaken? My perfect partner lay limp in my hand no matter what I did.  I shook it.  I begged it to wake up. “Please wake up “I love you”, I cried, as it lay lifeless and unresponsive. I have done everything in my power to keep you safe from water, falling or theft. I need you.   

It’s the 21^st century, I can’t live without my beloved phone. I need to communicate and be in touch 24/7. It’s like life support. I suddenly and surprisingly found myself screaming at  the love of my life, “I hate you! Why are you mad at me? What did I do? I’ve tried harder to save our relationship than any other.  Remember the time you slipped out of my hand hiking and I ran out on to the Pacific Coast Highway to save you from a speeding red Porsche? That is what you meant to me.” Or would I really rather have a Porsche?

I bought rice when you fell in the toilet. And I hate rice. I never realized how many kinds there are but for you I read the label on every freaking box even though none had directions for cell phone resuscitation. Dazed and confused I bought a big box plopped you in it hoping against hope that I could save you from a tragic toilet death.  I never again used that box of rice.  

But now I feared I needed more than rice. Can a phone have a heart attack? I don’t know CPR.  I think however I was having one or needed a Valium drip.  No time to call the Genius Bar for an appointment as it was a life alert emergency.  I jumped in my car in the ratty old pjs in which I slept and high tailed it to Apple. All bets of propriety and decency were off. But how to get there?  Wake up please; I need directions. You were so much better at them than either husband. 

You got me to So Cal 10 times without a hitch even when they closed down all of New Mexico because of an ice storm and you found a way out across the Southern Texas border. Very scary and I thought I was going to die among all the animal carcasses. I had to pee on the side of the road for lack of any sign of plumbing, was dangerously low on gas, delirious from dehydration and except for your soothing voice guiding me I would have given up hope and perished.

Now I will save you.  I ran across two lanes of traffic and into the big shiny Apple store. I pushed away everyone in my path to the Genius Bar. Thankfully no one called an ambulance or the police. “Help me, my phone is dead.  It’s dead…dead I say. What happened? Did I kill it? Call Bill Gates. Am I a widow? ” 

Annoyed by my unscheduled arrival the “genius” bar guy glared at me as he took the phone. He fiddled with it for a minute and handed it back. Suddenly on the screen appeared the face of my little dog Tulip and all the icons. It was a miracle, but actually not. The phone was fine. I was nuts. I did not realize the “brightness” setting had somehow re-set to the lowest light which made the screen black.  I almost fainted from sheer relief and simultaneously died of embarrassment.   

As I drove home I could breathe for the first time in hours. I once again believed my phone and I were in a “til death do us part” relationship.