I dropped my cell phone in the tub. It’s all Miguelita’s fault. I was FaceTiming her after a really long day of medical related stuff. As in organizing a brochure for a physician or scheduling a referral dinner. Very stupidly, I perched my phone on the corner of the tub so I could face her as laid on my stomach sipping my cocktail of vodka, club soda, and frozen fruit. Yes, frozen fruit in my drinks is a new thing. Try it- it’s utterly refreshing and delicious.
I was recounting the sheer drudgery of my day that just completely required a half frozen drink. Now keep in mind, I had already popped a sleeping pill and one xanax, so the only thing I was in the condition to do was lay submerged in this tub or in a bed.
And all the sudden, as Miguelita was saying something that is now completely unimportant to me, it happened in slow motion. The phone slipped from the little shelf in the tub and splashed into the water. My life flashed before my eyes. After all, my phone is the portal to my pitiful existence.
Like a mother going to save her drowning child, I reached into the soapy water to retrieve my phone. The screen was still in tact as I could see Miguelita’s face and movements crystal clear.
“OHMIGODIJUSTDROPPEDMYPHONE!” I yelled at the screen. I saw Miguelita’s face fall as obviously, this is a really shitty thing to happen. She was saying something but I couldn’t hear anything. Oh god, dropping a phone in water really isn’t good. I’ve heard the horror stories but had yet to experience it for myself. It’s 2017 and they can’t even create a phone that isn’t destroyed by some measly water? So rude.
“JAMETH!” I yelled as I jumped out of the tub and flew into the living room, dripping wet and naked. This is not a big deal as we parade around the apartment naked pretty much all times.
“Jayden, what the hell did you do now?” she yelled from the kitchen, where she was probably sautéing onions and broccoli as to accompany her carefully prepared avocado toast.
“I drowned my phone!”
“Jayden, you need to be more mindful…” she started. I rolled my eyes and proceeded to ignore. I grabbed a bag of rice neither of us would ever eat and threw the phone in. Except I forgot to turn it off like a moron. As it flickered and looked as though it was having an epileptic episode, I decided I needed to go to the Apple store that instant to get a new phone. I was half a milligram of xanax and one cocktail down. Could I still drive? Well it was a game I was about to play.
I gunned it down Lincoln Blvd. to the 3rd Street Promenade in Santa Monica and marched into the Apple Store at approximately 8:12pm. The store would close at 9pm. I ran up to the first person I saw and explained the ill fate of my phone.
“Yes, I’m sorry. No one is going to be available for the rest of the evening,” the former high school nerd told me stoically, clearly not understanding I can’t be without mobile for extended periods of time.
I rolled eyes again and walked up to someone else, who was much more accommodating for me. I explained I was under the influence of xanax and was about to fall asleep so I needed a new phone immediately. “No problem, that will be $400,” they told me. I handed over my credit card and cried.
I’m not really sure what I’m even trying to prove. I just know I can’t tub and FaceTime simultaneously any more, it’s too expensive.