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I got a fancy phone today. Not cause I wanted it. I’d have taken my rinky dink phone to hell w/ me if it lasted. But it died today. It died after 6 weeks of quarantine & of far more valnurability than I’m comfortable expressing. It died 3 days into the sickest I’ve felt in years.
It died a few weeks into the protective order in this state to not leave the house for non-essentials. It died when I was in the middle of a conversation. The point is, it died. And it died during a pandemic when I‘ve only been able to leave my house 6x since March.
I want to tell you I reacted well. I didn’t. I started sobbing. Not because of “those damn millennials & their phone addictions to The Twitter & The Facebook”. I sobbed because I’ve seen a grand total of maybe 20 in person faces since April. Less than 5 that I know. I sobbed.
I don’t have a working computer right now for personal use & a government laptop is completely off limits, of course. So the phone broke, & I sobbed, because that was/is currently my only line out for connection. And all the Apple stores are closed.
It’s strange that would bother me so much as an introvert, but bother me it did. Tremendously. I could order online but it would take three days. Three days of no music. No human connection. No heart. I can’t. I couldn’t. At least give me the music to get me by.
Wiping the streaming tears from my face, I put on my mask & gloves. I dried my eyes because I knew once outside I couldn’t touch them. I used to work in healthcare. Sick, but NOT COVID SICK (I wouldn’t have left the house period had the doctor not given the OK), I walked to a...
...nearby town center where what appeared to be a franchised Verizon store was partially open. One employee, gloves & a mask, sparse walls & limited customers allowed. Printed signed reminding of safety measures adorned the walls. I waited in the far corner till he was ready.
There was Wayne. “How can I help you, hun.” And embarrassingly, I “floodgated”. “Floodgated” is a term I like to use to explain maybe the 2-3 times a year all of the times I’ve never let another person see me cry out of pride pours out onto an unsuspecting human. This was Wayne.
Wayne took it like a champ. I tried not to snot cry, fogging up mask & then my glasses. “I’ve had a really bad day”, I said. “I’m sorry to keep you, can anything be done?” My phone couldn’t be saved. Again, on a normal day? So what. Accidents happen. Now? Fuck to the 32nd power.
”I’ll help you”, Wayne said. He let me word vomit at him about how bad the day had been, how I’d just had an argument that was my fault & how now my only means of connection was gone. He tilted his head & smiled (you could tell mask rose slightly). “We’ll take care of it, dear.”
Wayne got me a new phone. He told me the camera was great & talked about his grandkids. He waited well after hours to make sure it worked. Then he told me how far away he lived. He stayed after hours, during a pandemic, far from ON A SATURDAY to help a weird, twitchy crying lady.
I know, I know. TL;DR. The thing is, I want a thread like this. For no other purpose than to thank the Wayne’s of the planet right now who YOU might not think is an essential worker but just operated as a phone salesman, tech, friend & therapist.
So this thread is for Wayne in Rockville & every other person like him who is going above & beyond to make us feel little cared for right now. @verizon, he deserves a raise & a paid vacation. It’s not about a phone. It’s about being human in an inherently difficult time to be.
