Even a brand-name flip phone — Samsung made mine — sooner or later gives up the ghost. It didn’t last as long as my old Nokia candy bar, but those things are borderline indestructible.
So okay, I’ve owned a Nokia and a Samsung. Which way do I go? Perhaps surprisingly, this way:
“S&D” in Wootesian means “Scratch and Dents.” And there are a couple of spots where the gold has started to go, suggesting the previous owner was as clumsy as I am regarding plugging stuff in. The screen, however, is just fine.
I am told the next iPhone goes all the way to eleven, so I figure I’d be comfortable at six and a half, once I learn the ins and outs of iOS Whatever The Hell Number It Is. (It’s apparently 11.2 or something like that.) There are two T-Mobile stores within a mile and a half of me, one in the mall and one freestanding; I opted for the latter, and was fortunate enough to deal with a young lady who looked sort of like Viola Davis, if Viola Davis ever played in the WNBA. If Tmo sends me a survey, and it’s almost certain they well, she gets top honors all the way down the column.