It is time to say goodbye to an old friend. It’s really sad. But it is time.
You were my faithful friend, even after all the times I dropped you. You stuck with me even after spending dozens of hours stuffed inside my sweaty sports bra. You still worked after I dropped you on the second floor roof and you slid down the asphalt shingles, face down, and landed in the lawn.
Sure, when I texted, you often hit “L” and send. But now that L is gone. The Bloody “L”. The “what the L”. I may send an L for old times sake, but it won’t be the same.
Really, how can you say goodbye to a friend that spent hours stuck in the waistband of my panties or the cup of a bra when I didn’t have pockets available? Who fell out of my panties and came out the bottom of my skirt thus providing amusement for all who witnessed it? Who was with me when I ran my first 5K? Who fell out of a pullover jacket and hit the road while I was pedaling my bum off (which actually is probably not very fast anyway but that’s not the point). And still, once I stopped and rode back, and picked it up, it still played music for me.
You were often the only thing that kept me from just losing my shit when I was stuck at work for 12-16 hours at a time. You and that lovely pair of earbuds.
But now, you are old. Your Palm OS software rather blows compared to what other phones are sporting. You are missing a relatively giant sliver from your touch screen. You bare the scars of the asphalt roof on all of your touch screen. And, without an expansion slot, I cannot add any more songs.
I think I’m keeping you though. I think I’ll put you in my entertainment center next to my poor abused TI 81 calculator (yeah, kiss my ass I have the 81).