At 2pm this afternoon, whilst Miss Marple was on the telly, I heard the sickening crack of my iPhone hitting our tiled kitchen floor. I’m now the proud owner of one of those rubbish iPods with a smashed screen that looks like it’s been dragged through a spider’s web at dawn. I've had to stick tape everywhere to prevent shards of glass cutting my ears to shreds every time I make a phone call. Frankly, I’m astonished it still works, but this iPhone has survived all sorts of falls, Frisbee incidents and immersions and doesn’t seem to want to give up the ghost at any cost. I immediately took the poor thing to the Orange shop in Crouch End and was told I'm just 11 days away from a free upgrade which means I can progress to a sparkling iPhone 4s, or something...
It would apparently cost me £50 to make what’s called an early upgrade, or, for the same amount, I could set the balls rolling on an insurance claim. I am (as I am with all the technology I possess) insured up to the hilt. The man in the shop, and the guy on the phone both agreed it was better for me to claim for insurance rather than opt for an early upgrade, because - and I was astonished to hear them both saying it - "you can flog it on the Internet when you get your free upgrade in 11 days time." Wow!
Anyway, here I am, trying to back up all my contacts, which is surprisingly difficult if your laptop is not made by Apple. Nathan is currently on the phone to Orange (what is this? A fruit salad?) stranded in the mother of all automated systems which apparently costs 5 pence per minute. For every extra second that he spends listening to a silly woman's voice, I feel less guilty about my plans to flog the iPhone as soon as they deliver it tomorrow!
It would apparently cost me £50 to make what’s called an early upgrade, or, for the same amount, I could set the balls rolling on an insurance claim. I am (as I am with all the technology I possess) insured up to the hilt. The man in the shop, and the guy on the phone both agreed it was better for me to claim for insurance rather than opt for an early upgrade, because - and I was astonished to hear them both saying it - "you can flog it on the Internet when you get your free upgrade in 11 days time." Wow!
Anyway, here I am, trying to back up all my contacts, which is surprisingly difficult if your laptop is not made by Apple. Nathan is currently on the phone to Orange (what is this? A fruit salad?) stranded in the mother of all automated systems which apparently costs 5 pence per minute. For every extra second that he spends listening to a silly woman's voice, I feel less guilty about my plans to flog the iPhone as soon as they deliver it tomorrow!
350 years ago, Pepys found himself drafted in to sing with the choir at Westminster Abbey! It seems an almost impossible thing to imagine. He was musical – and had regular singing lessons – but I can’t imagine a passing singer being offered the same opportunity these days, however talented he was (and however many of the boys had gone down with man 'flu)
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