My gaze shifted from the fifth-consecutive “send fail” alert glowing on the phone to the rushing river just feet from the car window. One quick toss and my troubles would be over.
It seems I’m trapped in an abusive relationship with Apple. Two weeks ago, I tried to break it off. I handed the man my old iPhone and left with a Galaxy S4. I’d decided to switch for very well thought-out reasons including: “larger display for that one app I use six times a year,” and “Liz has one and it’s fancy.”
Still, the leap might’ve gone better had I not waited four years to replace my phone. The second I turned the new one on I was in trouble: The interface is so vastly different I felt like a sloth who’d just been handed a universal remote. But I pressed on, comrades, knowing soon the Galaxy S4 would be my prison … helper. (I’m trying to stop saying “bitch” all the time.)
But no. Within days it became apparent half the people I knew weren’t getting my texts, I was forever logged in as available on ever-lovin’ Google Hangouts, and my email accounts were being mysteriously affected.
Several hours of online searches, six Q&A sessions with other Android users, and three support chats later, I found myself back in the dang phone store. Nobody had figured out the hitch in my giddy-up. I’d delete an app, solving one problem, but creating three more.
“Far as the chat functions go, that’s an operating system issue. When you delete it, your email accounts will be on the fritz,” said Sales Dude. “Annnddd … your texts are messed up because your contacts think you still have an iPhone. Get your friends to delete you and then put you back in again.”
“That should be easy: I only have one friend, and he’s a non-phone-using volleyball named ‘Wilson.'”
I didn’t say that.
Instead I thought really, really, really hard — not easy since the shamrock shake I’d pounded on the way over still had its brain freeze hold on me.
“So, all of these problems will be solved if I contact everyone I know, ask them to delete me off their phone then re-enter me AND I wait for programmers to create a new operating system that doesn’t force me to use Google Hangouts … on a phone built to play nice with Google?”
“Yes,” he said. “Or you can go back to an iPhone.”
I couldn’t leave Apple because Galaxy was even meaner. So I went back.
Texts were fixed.
Google Hangouts disappeared.
Email accounts both received and sent.
And all my photos were gone.
No worries, though, since I have a backup from September 2012 I can restore it with. If I met you after then, you’ll need to text me your number.
And a photo would be nice.