Did I mention that I hate swapping cell phones? I haven’t blogged about this for the entirety of the summer because I’ve just been living in dread. The whole process has got to be one of Dante’s Circles of Hell.
We have been to the Verizon store three times this evening.
We have been on the phone with Verizon for two hours this morning.
Marcus has pretended to be his father, and I’ve pretended to be his mother, so we could get his number released from Verizon so that we could create another Verizon account. Apparently if you don’t have a Verizon phone (comme moi), this is a non-issue and they’ll just steal your phone number from whatever carrier you were using.
For the record, if you’re trying to get in-touch with me, it could take anywhere between 30 minutes and 48 hours for me to get my old phone number back. So feel free to try, but as of now, we’ve got nothing. I do, however, have an exciting mystery-number for the time being that isn’t worth giving out.
Don’t even get me started about what happens if you let Facebook onto your phone. It’s cringe-inducing (including incorporating all of your Facebook friends into your contacts list…like seriously, just kill me now. Please.). Especially since lately, Facebook and I just haven’t been on the same wave.
To make things even more ridiculous, after talking on my phone for all of three minutes tonight, it’s become deadly-apparent to me that the speaker on my phone is broken (It rattles. We did a test and Marcus’ is clear as day). So now I have to fight-my-way to the top of the waiting list at the Verizon store for the next Droid X so that they can replace the thing because it’s defective.
For what it’s worth, for all of that horror, the phone itself is pretty freaking gorgeous. The display is incredible and the app-support is insane (coming from a BlackBerry AND iPod Touch user). I spent zero time researching the phone in advance (that was Marcus’ bag) but truly, I am astonished.