Webster

I finally caved and bought a new phone.  Rocco has been creaming for the Palm Pre ever since the press release came out.  He’s been using his subtle powers of persuasion to convince me it’s the solution to all my problems.  Originally I thought his motivation was just to get me a phone that actually worked so he could reach me on occasion.  Also, I figured it was a means to end my incessant whining over the piece of shit I had been using for the past two years.

All lies.  He wanted me to get the phone first in the same way that Kuwait men let their wives walk in front of them.  He figured there were really two possibilities: one – the phone would suck and he’d stick with his Centro; or two – I’d be frustrated learning the new phone, give up in a matter of weeks, and he’d swoop in and take it off my hands.

Backfire.

I love my new phone.  I named him Webster.  We go for long walks in the park, chat in waiting rooms, hold hands on the bus…he’s downright dreamy.

I remember vividly the moment I knew we were meant to be together.  I’d visited a couple of different stores while walking around town with Tripe.   One had the phone, but the battery was dead.  One store was completely out of stock.  But the third was a Sprint store with phones in stock and a demo model for my amusement.

I’m as intrigued as the next gal when it comes to the iPhone, but I already have a little netbook.  I don’t need another small computer.  I need a phone that actually works.  I hate AT&T.  I hate trying to reach my friends on AT&T.  Dude, FUCK AT&T.  I need a phone that first and foremost works well as …wait for it…a PHONE.  I was buying nothing that didn’t sound great and have strong coverage.

First Tripe went outside and called the demo phone from my phone.  I could hear him crystal clear!  Then Elvis (my sales guy – honestly – no exaggeration here) let me take the demo out onto the street to see how much street noise the mic picked up.  None.  I stood next to an idling motorcycle and a Jewish preaching bus with megaphones blaring.  Tripe said he only heard my voice.  Even crazier, I could hear him over all the noise!  Was it possible for a smart phone to actually sound good?

Then I sat down with Elvis and he walked me through all of the phone’s workings.  It took a few tries, but I started to get the hang of all the finger flicking pretty quickly.  Every question I asked, Elvis answered happily.  Every complaint I had about my HTC, he was able to counter with an improvement on the Palm Pre.

And then he let me drop it.

All the patrons and employees in the store whipped their heads around lightening fast at the sound of the phone hitting tile floor.  I scrunched up into a standing fetal position, pointed at Elvis and squeaked, “He said I could!”

The phone was unscathed.  Not only was it still all in one piece (I once split my HTC into seven with a single drop) but it wasn’t even scratched!  Could it be an Elly-proof phone?  In that moment, I knew we’d be together forever…or at least until my two-year service contract was up.

I had all five of my email accounts set up in under fifteen minutes.  For comparison, I finally got my last email account successfully working on my HTC after four months of working at it.  Granted, I’m not the most tech savvy gal on the planet, but Rocco Gates couldn’t figure it out either.

There’s a few things I’d change about Webster if given the chance.  It was a bit of a headache to get my calendar and contacts synced, but that’s just because I don’t use an exchange server.  I found an app that seems to work just fine.  The only downside is that none of my ridiculous contact pictures made the move.  So now I have to torment my friends with more awkward photos in bars – not all bad.  Also, I don’t have a list of upcoming events on the home screen as I did on my HTC.  If there’s an app to fix that, I haven’t found it yet.

Basically though, I’m happy with Webster.  He’s taken a few tumbles already, no scratches and still working.  I left him baking on the dashboard in the sun for more hours than I’d care to admit, seems to be doing just fine.  I even poured a bottle of water into my purse fully soaking the little bugger – still working!

I’ll let you know how week two goes, but so far, so good!  Sorry Rocco, guess you gotta get your own…


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