My husband's cell phone was so old that when we went into the Sprint store today to figure out why his calls were getting dropped, he was told that Sprint had disbanded all equipment and leases for "antiquated" devices.
My husband's phone was "antiquated." I just don't understand the short shelf-life of expensive technology.
Anyone want to come over to my house and watch "Top Gun?" On beta?
Since we were already in the store (and had accumulated 5 years worth of free upgrades because we fear technology and abhor change), I somehow walked out with this sexy little number:
I'm miffed at Joe. He monopolized the salesman's time learning how to load Fantasy Football applications and music on his phone.
Me? I don't know how to turn the damn thing on. And because my natural body temperature is that of a frozen tundra-loving caveman, when I press the stupid little buttons (are they even called "buttons?"), nothing registers.
Tell me this gets better. Or get me some tin cans and string.