Initally, I started with: an elephant used it as a washcloth. Â I deleted an app it had fallen in love with. A bullet. It was a bullet. Â I was watching the Blurred Lines music video so I threw it against a washer/dryer in a symbolic act of defiance against the patriarchy.
I dropped it.
I dropped it.
I DROPPED IT.
Privileged persons of the world, hear me! Â At one point in our grossly extravagant lives we have all cracked the screen of our iPhones. (For those still with flip phones, this does not apply to you. Because you have chosen a soldier. I applaud your lifestyle and I bow down to you as I pick my shattered phone up off the ground.)
Much like my hands in winter or my substitute Social Studies teacher in 5th grade, iPhone screens crack. Â When it happens, it is awful. Not awful like “I ran out of conditioner” awful and certainly not awful like “Something actually awful happened to me,” awful, but awful in its own, superficial, cute, little “I can afford to care about this” kind of way. Â Once it happens, we’re sad for a couple of minutes. We grieve. We stare wistfully at our now imperfectly reflected faces and even allow ourselves to admire the almost pretty shape of the cracks. Â But this is not the worst part of cracking our iPhone screens.
“Oh! What happened to your phone??”
^THIS the worst part of cracking our iPhone screens.
Because from this moment on, every person who sees our now impaired phone will either a) chuckle and ask what happened b) gasp and ask what happened or c) SCREAM, CLUTCH THEIR HEARTS, SING A TUNE FROM LES MISERABLE and ask what happened.
When this happens, I am forced to wonder “What do you THINK happened to my phone?” And then I think of all the outlandish responses these super observant people must be waiting to hear if they’re asking such questions. *See beginning of post* *If you’re too lazy to scroll that’s fine* *It’s not fine, the beginning’s not that far*
When our iPhones screens crack, we are hurt.  We try really hard not to be, in an effort to not feel spoiled and Clueless-eque (a lifelong struggle for most.) But we are upset when we have to look down at our screens and see the crack every time we check the weather (Twitter) or peruse the New York Times (Instagram) or keep up with the stock market (maybe people do look at the stock market.)  When someone asks us “what happened??” it only reminds us that we should have dropped the milk instead when we reached for the door while holding too many things.  And it makes us feel bad. (Not bad in a “The fish I had for only 10 days died” kinda way but–okay, you get it. This belongs in the sparkly, bedazzled and over-hashtagged  “First World Problems” category.)
The correct response to a cracked iPhone screen is feigned ignorance. Hear no crack. See no crack. Don’t be speakin’ no crack.
The other correct response is to offer to buy me a new iPhone. And a better iPhone case. The one with the studded things. No, Kate Spade. NO. The cats one.
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