Rebecca Behrens books
Rebecca Behrens books
Rebecca Behrens books
You served Β me well, Dumbphone. Even though you never held a charge. Even though your backplate constantly yearned to break free from the rest of the phone, rendering you unconscious (sometimes in the middle of a call). Even though you loved to butt-dial my sister and BFF Annabel. Even though your teeny tiny little QWERTY keypad made texting a grammatical nightmare.
You had some good features. CNET said your shape was reminiscent of a candy bar; that’s probably why I liked you. Mmm, chocolate phones. You had a distorted little patch of mirror on the back for incredibly lo-res selfies, I guess. Your ringtones were unintentionally hilarious. Or maybe intentionally–I have no idea who designed you.Β I will miss the fact that I could drop, kick, or throw you without fear. I never, not once, worried about somebody stealing you on the subway.
Perhaps we will meet again–if my iPhone breaks or gets itself stolen, or if I am feeling nostalgic for a phone that is just a phone. Until then: thanks for the four years(!) of conversation. It’s been real.
To all who preceeded me into the world of iPhones: which apps do I want? Help me figure out how to use this thing with suggestions in the comments, please!