I’ve been living in ‘cell phone hell’. My phone did not work at my home (imagine that – I’m looking at you Sprint) but because they are ‘on island’ they would not let me out of my contract. It turns out that AT&T (the other national provider – on island) has better service. ~ Are you kidding me? This island is 26 miles long by 7 miles wide (at the widest point), how could you not have service at my house?
Anyway…today my sentence was up. The contract with Sprint ended and I was in the AT&T store signing up. The lady there, Kiesha, is my new best friend. I thought I was heading into ‘phone store hell’ and instead she walked me through the process with an incredible flare for customer service. She told me about her son who is in remission of cancer in his eyes and about the seven years she spent living in Omaha, Nebraska. When we were finished, she walked me to the door and gave me a hug. (It’s a Cruzan thing.)
I wanted to keep my old number, because it’s an area code from the States. This allows people there to call me for free ~ well, not for free, ain’t nothing free, but it’s within your normal nationwide or western calling plans. I’ve been operating (sometimes) off an old Balckberry, which BTW I just recently figured out, now I have an iPhone. It’s pretty, slick, and sexy, as phones go, but I’m back to square one. I have no idea how to work this thing. Kiesha assured me it was simple and that anyone could figure it out in a matter of minutes. Apparently, there are not a lot of ‘dumb blonds in her neck of the woods. I’ve been at it for over an hour and still can’t get my gmail account loaded onto this slippery little thing.
It’s a sad state of affairs when your ‘smart phone’ is smarter than you.