Intelligent non-smart phone

Dear Phone,

Yesterday, you took the plunge, sliding around the floorboard of my car onto the sidewalk and into the gutter and right down into that manhole.  I heard you hit the ground with a clatter.  And there you were, at the bottom of a manhole, where I couldn't reach you.  It's like you put yourself in permanent timeout - your own little deserted island all to yourself.

You served yourself well, as in, you didn't really serve me much at all.  Sure, you had the cool slide up aspect that drew me to you.  Sure, you took some great pictures.  But when it came to actually being a phone, you failed...all the time.

For not being a smart phone, you were the smartest phone I've ever had contact with.  You had this knack for always going 'out of service' when someone needed to get a hold of me.

Example: the night of Christmas.  I drive through 8 hours of horrible snow conditions.  While I slept off my exhaustion, my sister goes into a panic.  Why?  She never received the text I sent her saying that I got home safe.  When she called my phone, you gave a trite little message, "Cannot find this person.  Please wait while this person is located."  Do you realize what such a message sounds like to a concerned loved one?  I'm sure she imagined me in a ditch or worse.  It was only after calling all of my friends and my roommate driving over to come find me at home that I realized that you had temporarily signed yourself offline.

Forgettable, even forgivable, if it was just this one time.  But No!  It was EVERY single time it was critical that I have access to a phone or someone have access to me.  I started to become impressed, actually, by your 'impeccable' timing.  You were brilliant in your laziness.

So, when you fell down the drain, I marveled again - I still had 7 hours ahead of me in my weekend of driving.  A phone would have been nice, important even, for the hours ahead.  And instead, you gave yourself a one-way ticket to retirement.

My sister marveled that I wasn't sad for my loss.  I was sad...and angry..and in awe.

Shouldn't I be thrilled you gave your notice?  Shouldn't I have fired you months ago and returned back to my old phone?  But instead, even now, I'm just keep wondering about that little phone all by his lonesome in that manhole.

Serves me right for loving you in spite of your faults.

Love,
Me