The new year has finally begun!  So much to do!  I have a growing list of Serious Essays that I want to write, but I’m just not ready to be serious yet.  So, I thought I’d take you along on a recent Trying Journey:  getting new cell phones.  Let me say right up front that I recognize that what you are about to read fits squarely into the category of First World Problems.  But it’s still funny.

The Monday after Christmas dawned bright and sunny.  Or it may have been raining.  All I know is that my agenda was to go on a Costco run, something I normally do alone.  I shared this plan with Trish and asked the obligatory, “Do you want to go along?”  She answered, “Yeah, I think I might!”  That was our first mistake.  We arrived at 10:15, list in hand, and entered.  As we headed down toward the Brita replacement filter aisle, we saw a kiosk for cell phones representing all the major carriers.  We’d been working up the energy to get new cell phones because I had an iPhone 6 and Trish a 6s.  Hers was “more current” only because the cats dumped her 6 into their water bowl.  It was time.  But we both hate spending the money only slightly less than we hate the “process”.

Drew was a really nice guy and told us that the “process” would take no more than 30 minutes.  Believing him was our second mistake.  We flew through our shopping list and were back at Drew’s side in 15 minutes, but now had to wait for three other people in front of us to finish.  One person wasn’t quite sure how a cell phone worked.  One was trying to complete a complicated transaction that seemed sure to threaten national security.  One kept having to go back and forth through check out and The Cage.  Ultimately, we got Drew’s attention and began the “quick process” to buy our iPhone 12’s.  Except we couldn’t just buy them.  We had to put them on our plan and pay them off over 12 months.  I left Trish to manage the transaction while I checked out and took our purchases to the car.  Good thing it was cold out.

When I got back to the kiosk, Trish had That Look on her face.  That “I knew this was not going to be easy” look.  Drew was trying really hard to keep a very neutral semi-smile on his face, but the panic in his eyes betrayed him.  He was typing slowly on his keyboard, a key here and there, while talking on his cell to the first of, I don’t know, 20 different people at HQ.  Trish and I took turns watching Drew and sitting on a surprisingly comfortable couch, people watching.  I calculated the percentage of people wearing either sweats or leggings at 90%.  An interesting factoid.  Anyway, The System was requiring us to put a down payment on the phones that we would have preferred to pay for outright.  $100 didn’t work.  Neither did $250.  Ultimately, we put down $750 “deposits” on phones that cost $769.  We went through the line, paid our “deposit” (and bought phone protector sets, which becomes important later), retrieved our phones from The Cage and were escorted back to Drew.  He went to complete the transaction, deactivating our old phones and activating the new ones and….the final transaction just would not clear.  It just would NOT.  Exasperated and without his commission, Drew told us we needed to go to a Verizon store, apologized profusely and escorted us to the Returns line.  Not the front of the Returns line.  The back of the Returns line.  On the first business day after Christmas.

We finally got home around 1:00 and were both hangry.  People who know me know how dangerous this is.  “The First Rule of Sherri” is to feed me on time and at regular intervals.  I was not happy.  Trish knew not to even try to talk to me until my blood sugar had stabilized.  Then came our third mistake:  we are both Virgos who, once we get something in our mind, cannot let go of it.  So after we ate we said, “Let’s just get this done and go to a Verizon store.”  We knew enough to go to a REAL Verizon store and not a Verizon Authorized Dealer, but that’s a story for another time.  Trish smartly said, “Let me call first and make sure they have phones.”  Store number one had no 12’s in stock.  When she called store number two, they transferred her to a national sales rep.  Trish was introduced to Alberto, who lives in Seattle, and thus began a relationship none of us expected.  They became friends fast, so I went into the other room to try to read.  At some indeterminant time later, they were completing the transaction and all we’d need to do was go to the Verizon store and pick up our new phones! Yay!

That was until the credit card company turned down the transaction.  Not a big surprise.  A charge of $1780 dollars for two iPhone 12’s?  I’d turn it down, too.  We thought she’d get an automated text to approve the transaction, but no.  I went to call the credit card company on my cell phone since Trish was on the land line but DREW HAD TURNED OUR OLD PHONES OFF!  Which also meant there were two activated 12’s in boxes in Costco’s returns pile.  I kicked a cardboard box across the floor that the cats were playing with and sat back down.  Fortunately, Alberto was able to deactivate those Costco returns and reactivate our old phones.  I called the credit card company and was put on hold because of “unusually high call volumes”.  “What might be ‘usually’ high call volumes?” I wondered.  So we waited.  And waited.  Trish was still on the phone with Alberto.  They were telling each other stories from their childhood.  And waited.  And waited.  Trish was now telling him the story of how we met.  And waited.  Around 45 minutes or maybe three days later, as Trish was finalizing vacation plans with Alberto and his family, a customer service rep picked up.  Yes, she said, your card is locked.  I’ll unlock it.

Alberto put the transaction through again.  It was declined again.  He tried a few more times.  We envisioned the FBI coming to our doorstep, asking about the drug ring we must have been setting up by buying 15 iPhones.  I called the credit card company again.  Trish and Alberto were now discussing the finer points of Existentialism.  The card was unlocked AGAIN and we were scolded to wait 5-10 minutes before trying the transaction again.  FINALLY the purchase was completed and Trish and Alberto said a tearful goodbye.  I think we are now godparents to his children.

As the winter sun began to set over the Philly suburbs, we hightailed it to the Verizon store.  I wisely stopped at a Wawa and got Trish coffee, her pacifying juice.  We saw a sign outside the Verizon store telling patrons to wait there to be let inside.  It’s 31 degrees out, with a stiff wind.  A woman was standing there already, stomping her feet to keep warm.  We waited in the car.  Trish decided now was the perfect time to make a dental appointment.  The first woman got let in.  Another person wandered up while Trish was on hold.  Then another.  Time marched forward.  After losing our place three times in the freezing line we were finally let inside to wait in the cordoned off COVID Bullpen.

Ultimately, a nice young man retrieved our new phones and wished us well.  Yeah, that’s it.  No data transfer help or even a hint of support.  We pulled out our $20 Costco protector sets and asked him to please just put the safety film on for us.  He said, “No, I can’t do that since you didn’t buy those here.”  It’s now after 5:00.  We’ve been at this for seven hours.  All we wanted was this one little bit of kindness.  We both erupted.  He looked at us passively and tried to mansplain again why he couldn’t help us.  I offered to pay him.  Anything!  Just please do this!  I’m not sure what changed his mind.  Maybe it was the pleading look in my eyes.  Maybe Trish was making a gesture just out of my sight.  All I know is he relented, reluctantly, as long as we took everything out of the package and promised to not hold him liable should anything break.

Home with our news phones, we at least found the set up easy.  Thank you, Apple, for making something easy.  We have the newest phones.  We shouldn’t need to go through this again for at least five years.  I hope.  My marriage depends on it.