It has been discussed here before that I’m not exactly what you would call “tech savvy.” When it comes to gadgets and things, I pretty much operate on the same level as an 85-year-old Mennonite quilt maker. No offense, quilt makers. Well, my company has finally decided to recognize me as the star publicist I clearly am by giving me my very own blackberry. Baby’s first smartphone! So far it is going GREAT.
I now present A Technology Transcript:
Tuesday, April 10, 2012; 3:45 PM: Somewhere in the depths of a messy, crumb-strewn office, a phone rings. A stunningly beautiful woman answers.
Liz: “Hello, this is Liz.”
John From IT (henceforth J-FIT): “Hello, this is John, from IT.”
Liz (henceforth still just Liz): “Hello! Thanks for calling me back! I got a blackberry and I think someone emailed me directions but I couldn’t understand them, so I called the main tech number and they gave me your number. So. Yeah, I have a blackberry. How do I make it work?”
J-FIT: “Ok, well on the center of your screen you’re going to see an icon…”
Liz: “Wait. Sorry. Wait. It’s not on yet. How do I make that happen?”
J-FIT: “You’re going to want to push the red button.”
Liz: “Yeah, my whole blackberry is black.” (internal dialogue: that’s why they call it a BLACKberry, not at REDberry, am I right?!” zing!)
J-FIT: “Just look for a button that looks like an on button.”
Liz: “Ok! Found it and pressing it, but it still won’t start.”
J-FIT: “Did you put in the battery?”
Liz: “No. Where is the battery?”
J-FIT: “Did you look in the box?”
Liz: “No! Ok! Found it….got it to turn on….sorry, one sec, it’s turning on…almost on…ok, now it is on!”
J-FIT: “Ok, so you’re going to want to look for the icon that says…”
Liz: “Whoops, wait, nope, sorry. So sorry, I know you’re probably like, so sick of me already but now it is asking me if I want to set up my sim card. Do I want to set up my sim card.”
J-FIT: “Did you put the sim card in the phone.”
J-FIT: “Well, you’re going to need to do that.”
Liz: “Let me guess, it is in the same box as the battery! Haha! Found it.”
Liz: “Ok, put it in! It’s turning back on. One sec…almost there…we’re just about on…anddddd…on!”
J-FIT: “Ok, so now you are going to want to look for an icon ….”
I’ll stop here. This madness went on for over an hour. After finally logging onto the phone he asked me for my phone number. Of course I didn’t know it and couldn’t find it. “It should be listed on the side of the box,” said J-FIT. There were 13 different numbers listed on the side of the box. I tried calling my landline from my blackberry, to see what popped up on my caller ID, but kept getting a message saying I was denied. So we called T-Mobile headquarters and spoke with a nice man named Walter who kept calling me Tracy (“nope, it’s Elizabeth”) and said weird, canned customer servicey things like “Well! This is no good! We’ll get you up and running to better stay in touch with your co-workers, friends and loved ones.” It took him 15 minutes to figure out that my bberry was just set up for emails, hence being denied call access.
J-FIT: “So, your phone is just for e-mail?”
J-FIT: “No, I was asking you a question.”
Liz: “Oh, who knows.”
(I think he loves me!)
We finally got me to the icon J-FIT was so flipping obsessed over and set up my email. It took the phone several minutes to get updated, and it kept us in the loop with how far along it was. I periodically updated him with the status.
“We’re at 11 percent initialized, John.”
“40 percent, John! The big 4-0!”
“Home stretch now, comin into the 90’s.”
J-FIT did not respond to any of these updates, as he had now set his telephone to mute, presumably to cover the sound of ice cubes clinking in the large glass of whiskey I had driven him to pour. Sorry for ruining your day, J-FIT. I really thought we had a connection for a while there.
So, long story long, I have haltingly entered the world of modern techno gizmos. I look forward to answering emails on the go, keeping in touch with my co-workers, friends and loved ones and sitting my blackberry on the table while dining in fine restaurants so everyone can see that I am important. I just hope they don’t look too closely and realize I’ve entirely forgotten to turn it on.