Phones: They die. Usually at the hands of their owners. I recently wrote about how I drunkenly/stupidly destroyed my last five iPhones. I felt great shame. Several understanding readers called me irresponsible and swore to never read my posts again. Some of my friends told me it was the saddest thing they had ever read.
Then I did it again. Just a few weeks ago. I was standing on a subway platform in Brooklyn on a bitter cold morning. I reached for my phone in my coat pocket. My hand was too numb to hold on tight, and just like that, in broad daylight while I was completely sober, I destroyed yet another phone. A few days later I emailed a friend to get a phone number I had lost in the ordeal. It was one of the friends who was sad for me a few months ago. “LOL dude,” he said. “Just buy a fucking case.”
How did you crush your incredibly expensive and yet way-too-fragile handset? Are you a dumb arse? Were you drunk? Did your baby throw it across a room? Tell us below. Bonus points for images but they certainly aren’t a requirement.