At first, I was an emotional mess, constantly feeling for the phone that was no longer there. Then, as the days progressed, the panic dissolved into blissful joy, despite being cut off from my contacts and apps.
My iPhone developed ‘touch disease’ (don’t ask me how) and I was told by the courteous staff at Apple Kings in Half-Way-Tree, Jamaica that it’d take up to seven days to fix.
Seven. DAYS… ‘Weh mi fi do widout mi fone fi suh long, bossy?’ (Translation: “What am I supposed to do without my phone, man?!”)
‘Buy a banger,’ was the cheeky retort the receptionist made. I tried (and failed) to be civil and cast the fakest smile as she wrote me my receipt. I’d need it to recollect my phone the next week.
It seemed like an eternity, but it was Monday and I convinced myself that the need to have a properly functioning phone easily outweighed my dismay over not having it for seven days. So, reluctantly, I handed my phone over and said goodbye.
For a week.
Did I mention that I wouldn’t have my phone for a week? Yeah? I’m sorry (screams internally).
Monday (the same day, duh)
Literally minutes into it, I had a pang of guilt and turned to notify my friends and family that I wouldn’t have a phone.
Wait…how was I supposed to tell them I don’t have a phone, without a phone?
This isn’t 1957, I didn’t have a diary with names, addresses and telephone numbers lying around anywhere, and I felt so isolated.
The technological abyss welcomed me, the data blackout came crashing hard. Zero Twitter. No WhatsApp (and no phone so I can’t use WhatsApp web, either. KMT.) Instagram? Good luck with that, son! No games to pass the time. No app to meditate and calm my anxiety.
Just me, my thumbs and the once-occupied hands that were now empty.
Could I really make it to next Monday? Well, I already paid the full-service charge and just had to wait patiently… Lord, be a fence.
Woke up in bed and turned to check my phone for what’s happening on social media, just like I do every other morni-. Right, no phone (palms face).
I really learned how to use the office landline to follow-up on my latest interview. Boy, was that an experience!
How did this tiny device manage to control so much of my daily life?
By this point, I’d created a little routine, signing into as many social media profiles on my work computer (don’t do that, btw) just to not feel so disconnected.
Day two was less of a train wreck, but I was far from happy without my phone.
*Wails in the background*
Waking up, turned to my tablet, and booted up YouTube. It wasn’t the same, since my entire play history was NOT on this device and it felt like I was a stranger to my own music. Breathe Gavin, after all, you still have a whole four more days’ wait to go…
It wasn’t as bad as Monday when I got to work, but I was starting to get irritated that I had to (repeatedly) explain why I wasn’t responding to WhatsApps from the other departments.
Even though I had access to most of my profiles, it wasn’t the same. I. Wanted. My. Phone =(
‘You can do this Gavin’, I kept reminding myself, but the fact I was watching my co-workers and their fully functional phones pinging, ringing and doing just about everything I couldn’t… I won’t lie. Envy set like solid concrete in my bones and I seethed, silently.
The start of the weekend, and I noticed my attitude had changed, somewhat. I was more than happy to offer my go-to excuse, ‘Oh, I’m so sorry, I don’t have a phone right now’ in nearly every situation I could – even if it wasn’t remotely applicable in all cases.
Let’s just say I milked my technological ‘handicap’ and I was loving it!
‘I tried calling you, Gavin, and I forgot you don’t have a phone. This is so annoying!’ Sister, you’re telling me? Oh please, tell me more…
The day breezed by without much issue. I could get used to this ‘no phone’ business. =)
Imagine, an entire weekend to myself, not responding to any messages, DMs or other inboxes. I still have my computer, so you know what that means: Netflix. Horror. Binge!
I hadn’t looked forward to a weekend such as this in a long time. Left work *on time* and beat the rush hour traffic without fiddling too much with my fingernails.
Five days in and I was living for the disconnect not having my phone suddenly afforded me. I read an astronomy book, then a book on Jamaican politics, made dinner, and an appealing thought crossed my mind.
‘You know, I could get used to this!’ What phone? Pfft, if I never get it back, I wouldn’t mind…
Saturday & Sunday
I changed my mind. And all the bliss I felt crashed as the realisation that I was days away from collecting my phone, flooded my mind.
What kinda air was I breathing? Did they put something in the water?
*looks suspiciously at the tap*
I need my phone, and I need it NOW!
This emotional roller coaster wasn’t quite done with me yet, and I spent the latter part of my weekend stressing whether the phone would actually be ready.
Jah know, a wah coulda cause dis? (Translation: Man, how I did I get here?)
The next Monday
BUZZ fam, when I tell you I was out the door by 6:30 am, I tell you the honest truth.
I was the first to the office. I sat, had breakfast, and watched the time crawl ever so slowly on my computer screen.
Apple Kings doesn’t open until 10 am. Do you know how many minutes there are between 8 am and then?
One hundred and twenty of them (Yes, you can bet I counted them), and don’t tell me I’m being dramatic.
I tried calling, but the call wouldn’t go through and my mind went into panic mode, for the fifth time since giving up my phone.
I begged for a few minutes and marched right up to Half-Way-Tree. Excuse, this is an emergency, my phone needs me!
The touching reunion?
I walked into Apple Kings, sweating from the ungodly heat and I headed straight to the clerk.
‘I’m here to collect an iPhone…’, I began nervously and my anxiety shot through the roof when he responded, ‘Did we call you? It might nuh ready enuh mi boss’.
So, how were you gonna call me? Oh right, I happen to have a direct connection to Jesus’ telephone! I told him what I needed (get it?) and he sent me for my phone. Please, check for my phone so my heart can stop racing because I AM NOT doing this for another week…
A few nerve-racking moments later and there she was, all cured from her touch disease and I walked away happy. Until the battery died and I realised I had to pay to get that replaced, too. *screams internally*
Overall experience? 2/10. Would not recommend (unless you’re a digital hermit).