Monthly Archives: November 2011

cell out

i’ve been a sprint customer for over ten years, and have always been happy with their service. their phone choice has usually left a bit to be desired, but that all changed when the htc evo hit their shelves – and, just as quickly, i nabbed one off of those shelves. 

loved it. evo and me – we were so happy together. like, twirling around in a sunlit meadow, skipping through clover and holding hands on twilight beaches happy.

then i got the bright idea to upgrade to the htc evo 3d after a year with evo. this was with a 30 day trial, wherein i could test run my new evo and decide whether i liked it better or worse. the first 30 days, we were cool. we were honeymooners, taking it slow and finding out new things about each other.

and then there’s now. not even 6 months later, and i want a divorce.

so glitchy! so cranky! so fussy! tired, all the time – like his battery just drains by the second and he never fully recharges. sometimes he just shuts down completely and there’s not a damn thing i can do to shake him out of it. alas, like our friend kim kardashian found out 72 days too late – you can’t just trade him in for a new model. you gotta get out completely.

but apparently, sprint is getting rid of their premier program. which means i can no longer get a phone upgrade every year. now i have to wait 22 months like the rest of the world. 

which is where the fury comes in.

where is the incentive to stay with a company anymore? good offers, screamin’ deals, low prices, incentives – all of these are aimed at new customers only. comcast, directtv, all phone companies, many insurance companies, etc., they’re all guilty of it. get you in the door. and once you’re there? we don’t really care.

listen, sprint. i love you. i have loved you for over a decade. frankly, you’re probably my longest relationship at this point. i have defended you to the core, when others ask me “what the hell do you see in sprint?”

but i want you to want me. i need you to need me. it’s like you’ve started wearing your old busted flannel pajamas to bed every night – you’re not even trying anymore. 

at this point, i feel like cheating on you. my eye is wandering. i fantasize about running into the arms of some company that will welcome me, scoop me up, wine me and dine me.

at least until i sign on that dreaded dotted line, and they know they’ve got me for two years. i know the old busted flannel pajamas are coming out for the duration of those two years – but then i might just move on to someone else. 

serial cellogamist.


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