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Nancy Wurtzel Headshot

My Droid Is Dead, Long Live the iPhone

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Sometimes I procrastinate. Always I regret it. Take my cell phone, for example. I knew it was time to upgrade my nearly three-year-old Droid, yet I kept putting it off.

I certainly desired the latest iPhone, but the thought of transferring all my data and then mastering a new device seemed overwhelming. Did I really need that iPhone? After all, my Droid was a workhorse. So what if it didn't have the latest cool capabilities. I could always make and receive phone calls just fine, which is the most important part of a phone, right?

The months went by and I clung to my trusty old Droid.

Then, one day something happened and there was no going back.

I arrived late to a conference I was attending and found the ballroom packed with more than 1,300 attendees for the opening session. It was difficult to see in the darkened room, so I stood to the side and leaned against the wall.

After a few minutes, a conference worker indicated she had found an open seat. The rows were narrow and the available chair was toward the middle, which meant I had to shimmy by 10 or 12 people in very close quarters. I attempted to sit down, but there was already something on the chair -- a very large purse that belonged to a very large woman seated next to me.

I jumped back up and whispered, 'Would you move your purse, please.' Purse Lady glared and yanked her purse off the chair. She was not happy.

I settled in as quietly as possible. But every little movement I made seemed to garner angry looks from Purse Lady.

Then I realized, I hadn't silenced my cell. Damn!

Without making a sound, I slipped my hand into little pocket alongside my computer to pull out my Droid. As I did, something activated on the phone. Suddenly, I could hear a voice. Oh no! A voice mail message from months ago!

"Hi Nancy, this is Brenda returning your call about the..."

The screen on my phone was blank. Only the voice indicated the phone was even on. I attempted to turn down the volume. I tried to turn off the phone. I shook it and then I hit it against my leg. No dice. The voice continued. Heads turned. People stared. Purse Lady hissed in my ear, "For gods sake, turn it OFF."

I panicked.

I did the only thing that came to mind.

I sat on it.

Yes, the voice could still be heard. But thanks to my ample derriere it was now a muffled, faraway, disembodied sound barely emanating from my nether regions.

That's when I began to laugh. Silently, my shoulders shook and tears streamed down my face. I couldn't stop. Purse Lady was beyond enraged, and that made me laugh even more.

When the session was over and the lights came on, I leaned in (yes, there are indeed many ways to lean in) and offered an apology. Purse Lady was having none of it. With a look of total distain, she gathered said purse and huffed her way to the exit.

The next morning I got up early and was the first customer in the cell phone store. I bought my new iPhone and I couldn't be happier. It's so much fun. Honestly, I have no idea why I hung on to that dated Droid for so long. I guess I just needed prodding. A kick in the pants, if you will.

Actually, this was more like a phone in the pants with a Purse Lady on the side.

In any event, I'm upgraded and got a great story as a result. So, give me a ring on my new phone. I promise not to sit on it.