I wondered for a while how Virgin Mobile could afford to charge $25/month for the same service – 3G Internet – that other providers demanded twice as much for. Then I called their customer service line. “Hyello!” said a cheery Slav. “Thes es Kady!” She walked me through the process of transferring my phone number from my old provider to my new one. Later that evening, I glanced over at my old Motorola V551, which now showed zero bars on its monitor. No Service, it said. Unregistered SIM. Good night, old friend.
I was skeptical of the universal Slav bloc accents among Virgin Mobile customer service. But either they’re very well trained or they have a very thorough script. They talked me through the activation process, helped me set up my billing cycle, and even troubleshot my Internet access. It helped that I had them on speakerphone using Google Voice the whole time. I spent half an hour on Monday sitting at my desk, talking into a USB mic using free VOiP while someone twelve time zones away helped me activate the Internet on my handheld device. It’s the future; deal with it.
Having full access to the Internet on my BlackBerry has reminded me of how little of the Internet I want to see. I have my personal web-based e-mail accounts synced to it, but the conversations on the BlackBerry don’t thread. So when my friends go on about Jeff Goldblum and Biz Markie on the Jimmy Fallon show – it’s a trip; check it out – I get all fifteen e-mails. Somehow this doesn’t bother me in GMail: it’s in one thread; I can take it or leave it. But it feels wasteful to store all of that on my tiny mobile device.
The next few days, I’ll be migrating contacts from my old phone to my new one. If you text me and I don’t recognize you, I beg forgiveness. Also, apologies ladies, but I updated my girlfriend’s number first. So texting hey dear, want to hang out tonight? in the hopes of tricking me will get you nothing more than a spot on the waitlist.*
* Note to self: delete references to “waitlist” before posting.