MetroPCS: Now 100% Less Usable

My phone, some $30 Chinese knock-off hunk of toxic metal and hate, is dying. It is not a glorious death, as is the case with so many noble phones who found their way into a pint of Guinness, nor is it even dignified. No, my cellular device is being dragged kicking and screaming to the morgue with a level of class usually reserved for spree killers. It shows a full signal, yet will not make calls 60% of the time. Incoming and outbound messages are rarely sent without having to try at least five times. The battery seems to be based on lotto numbers. When I go to bed, I swear I can hear it snarling death threats to me.

Obviously not a touch screen

That’s what I find in my inbox every morning- from myself.

MetroPCS, it is time we parted ways. When we first met I was but a young man of 23, living in the urban jungle of South Dallas (Cedars, CxC!) and working in Denton as a technician at The Local Circuit. Your slender body and sleek curves caught my eye in the store, enticing me to embrace your cheap plastic frame as my connection to the world and pay only $50 a month for unlimited texts and calls. I paid $32.28 for you, you dirty little whore, and this is how you’re gonna do me. Sure, maybe I didn’t tell you about moving and you weren’t anticipating a shift to a different network. Maybe I charged you too much- or not enough. I wasn’t always the best man in the world, but I’m only human.

And here we sit at the crossroads of destiny: you looking haggard, tired and worn; me drooling over the newer, sexier iPhone/Android cells I could potentially have. Yet somehow, despite all I have done for you, all the money I’ve spent on your month-to-month plan, you simply chose to take a dive and somehow render yourself absolutely useless (and irreparably obnoxous) to me. I thought what we had was special. I thought it could last. I was wrong.

emo? really?

It’s not blood, it’s just mascara. But still, I weep.

I’m sorry, Metro, but this relationship is over. I met an older iPhone 3GS that I can hack to do everything you do and much more for the exact same price and still no contract. A quick SIM card swap from a $20 pay-as-you-go AT&T phone I can buy at any Wal-Mart in the country, a few tweaks and edits and BOOM, new iPhone with unlimited text and calls for $50, no contract. Sound familiar? It’s doing what you used to, and it’s so much better at it. Signal reception is strong and wide; voices and music melt gently into my ears; its smooth, silky screen just begs to be swiped. “Swipe me,” it says, “swipe me like you wanted to do on that old tramp. Go on baby, charge my little port. Mmm, yeah… mute me, that’s right, play with my volume buttons…” It might be a couple of years behind the times, but mature equates to experienced, and boy howdy is it ever good at what it does.

At 12:00AM on the 22nd, you will be cut from the network from whence you came. I will no longer pay for you with your stupid “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” automated interface, and I’ll yank out your cord from the wall so hard sparks will fly. All your data- pictures, messages, even your music- will be stripped from you and given to my new phone, leaving you with naught but memories and a heavy head. It could have been just you and me, darlin’, but you chose the low road.


Also, I found your Facebook account.

You think I like this? You made me do this! You and your dumb camera; your dumb, tiny, infant-sized buttons, your dumb speakerphone that is conveniently located on the back so it’s muted when you try to set it on the desk; your DUMB STUPID IDIOT OS-


Consider this your “Dear John” letter.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I lost my temper. I’m sorry. I have to go now. Hopefully someday someone will pick you up and give you the life and overpriced/underfunded 2G internet that you desire so badly- but it won’t be me. I really have to go- my fresh baby needs a new screen protector. Take care, and I’ll see you in Hell. Because that’s where the MetroPCS headquarters is.


Posted on May 10, 2012, in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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