Call it karmic vengeance for bragging about the ability to check stocks at the dinner table; it looks like me and every other yuppie (I’d like to think I’m more of a demi-yup) got what we deserve for paying $500 for a phone.
I swear that my original plan was to hold out for the second generation of iPhones. The bit I didn’t plan was getting schwasted and leaving my overworked little RAZR in the back of a cab in March. After spending what felt like an eternity (actually closer to a week) disconnected from the rest of the world, cursing the heavens for taking away the device through which I exercise my mad texting skillz, I got the Apple fever. And my father’s credit card.
For the past three months, I’ve been mostly content with my 16-gig pet. I learned to wait patiently when the Internet freezes up (“Could not activate EDGE” is how the phone explains it) and try and relax when Google maps leads me 30 miles in the wrong direction. Until yesterday, when Steve Jobs, ruler of the free world, knocked $300 off the price, made it faster and a just tiny bit cuter.
Admittedly, I considered for a second the possibility of upgrading my iPhone once July 11 rolls around. Then I remembered that our country is in a severe economic recession and that the Press doesn’t pay me to blog. The money I’d spend on another iPhone could buy 30 Nokias for starving kids in China or something. I take some comfort in the fact that the first shipment of second-gens won’t be sold online and that I-bankers are going to have to call in sick to work just to camp out like bums at the Apple store in Soho. But even if I mock the greedy technology vultures and tell them they’re idiots for not waiting around for the Google phone, it only means that I’m that much dumber for having bought one of my own months ago. It makes me miss my RAZR, which is something I never thought I’d say.
To anyone and everyone preparing for the new iPhone release, counting down the days to July 11 like the advent before Christmas, please be humble. Try not to wave around your new toy on the streets or shamelessly whip it out at bars in the hope that it gets you laid. We who are stuck with the old phone feel stupid enough already. And hey, Steve Jobs? I hate you.