No, not THAT one. What kind of a page do you think this is?
(No answers, please.)
Thanks to Courtney the Wiccan Verizon supervisor (that's what the "Blessed be" necklace means, right?) I am now the proud owner, until I break or lose it, of the EnV! Also, it is orange.
It's really bothering me though. I've only been screwing around with this webpage for two and a half years. That's all. Just more than two years, not at all enough time to FIGURE ANYTHING OUT.
Anyway, my phone is orange. It also has a 2.0 meg camera, which is going to be fun. And A KEYBOARD.
I am unstoppable. And also will officially have no capacity to focus on anything for more than the dwindling minutes I'm down to. It kills me that it's the EnV model, because that's the silliest thing I've ever heard, but whatever. A functional camera and a keyboard, and it's orange.
Courtney, I need to say, is awesome. She singlehandedly made up for all of my pent-up hatred towards Verizon, because guess WHAT? She was REASONABLE. She was PLEASANT. She was RESPONSIVE. I didn't have to lose my cool even a little bit, even just inside. I didn't have to think bad things, not for one second. She just handled it. She saw that I had a problem. She responded to my e-mail when I wrote her to set up a time to come in, and she said, "I look forward to solving your problem." I think she even meant it.
And then she listened to me, which admittedly can be a little bit challenging when I'm in a state of this sort (No phone! Not responding other than e-mail to story needs and sources calling me back! For a week! No money to deal with unexpected technical glitches! Driving around in traffic that sucks as much as anything can! And also? cold! COLD! no heat in my house cold! I'm charming, no matter how hard I try...)
She listened without her wheels visibly turning on her face about how she was going to refute all of my "issues" (I hate that word) by quoting line item 27 from page 372 of the employee manual. She noted that this was my THIRD iteration of the SAME phone in less than a year. She didn't ask me if I'd jammed pliers into the slot where the charger element was, although it clearly looked like I'd either done that, or opened up the phone body itself and bit down really hard on it, stuck in my car in this demon traffic and totally hungry for some electronic equipment. She just nodded, and said clearly I'd had some "trouble with this device" and they'd be happy to switch it up.
And when she finally asked me if the newest LG model was okay as a replacement, and I managed to squeak out that I would sorta kinda really be down with the nicer orange phone with the keyboard and the camera?
She said, "One moment please, let's just walk over here," and came back and said, "It's only twenty dollars more. I will gladly change you to that phone, even exchange. No problem."
Seriously. This never happens. I didn't even care that they took all my text messages off that I kept meaning to transcribe (because let me tell you, some of that shit is classic, although perhaps best left to the ether) and my pictures, and my crazily blown up list of contacts, but that's my fault because I didn't run the backup. Run the backup on your contacts, people. Take it from me, because the very day your phone dies is the day you need to talk to the most obscure person whose number you saved accidentally on purpose.
Courtney is a retail rock star. Maybe it's her necklace that gives her super powers, I don't know. But if it wasn't kind of weird and might could get me cited for some random infraction of the customer/supervisor separation rule, I'd bring her brownies or a Bath and Body Works gift basket or something.
Thank you Wiccan Courtney, high priestess of Verizon, for my kickass orange phone. And may it not break before July when I'm allowed to re-up for real, because I swear I'll snap like a twig. I won't want to, but I will.