Have you ever noticed how one unfortunate experience can
trigger off a series of similar episodes till it gets to the point that you either
laugh (preferable) or cry?
Last week my iPhone4 was snatched out of my hand by a young
yob on a bicycle, working in tandem with another who had managed to distract my
attention, thereby enabling his friend, unnoticed by me, to whizz past me on his bike, snatching the
phone out of my hand. Adding insult to
injury, as I ran in hot pursuit, I tripped and fell forward, badly grazing the
palms of my hands. So not only was I down to the tune of £400 (my phone wasn’t
insured), I was also not able to work for a few days (it’s pretty much
impossible to massage someone with bloody palms). In retrospect maybe it’s just
as well I didn’t catch the little f***ers, otherwise I might be in jail myself
now for murder or GBH at the very least.
A friend came to my aid. He had a spare iPhone 3 he didn’t
need. So all I needed to do was buy a replacement SIM, and everything would be
ok again. Well not quite. First of all we discovered that the SIM tray was
missing. I spent the following day trying to find another. Eventual success
revealed that the phone needed to be unlocked. I found somewhere to unlock the
phone for me, but unfortunately, once I tried restoring my own phone’s settings
from back up, the phone would no longer recognise the SIM. My friend kindly
offered me the use of a LG optimus 3, so a few days later I brought this home
and charged it up. Inserted my SIM and the phone was working fine. Not quite an
iPhone, but a lot better than my old blackberry. I decided to download the
appropriate software to my laptop. To do so, I was enjoined to remove the
battery from the phone to locate the phone number. I located the number,
replaced the battery and switched it back on. Apart from flickering into life
for a split second a couple of times, the phone has since refused to power up.
I was beginning to think that anything technological I
touched would immediately disintegrate before me, so decided to give up and go
to the gym. At least my old blackberry was working. I made for the Boris bikes
that are docked just outside the entrance to my flat, inserted my membership
key into the slot and nothing. No flashing orange light. No green light. Nothing.
I tried the next one. Nothing. And the
next one. I tried the central
information point. Nothing there either. I called Barclays Cycle Hire Customer
Services and was informed that my key had become faulty, though why is unclear.
That’s when my frustration turned to laughter. The girl at Barclays Cycle Hire
probably thought I was mad, but I couldn’t help it.
I am consoling myself with the thought that all these things
happened before my birthday. As neither the Western nor Chinese New Year had
heralded any great changes, maybe my own personal new year would. I am not
superstitious, but, if there is such a thing as karma, then I hope that the
little sod that snatched away my phone also snatched with him any bad karma
that was hanging round me. If there’s any justice in this world, it will all
attach itself to him now. I hope that he
carries it round for a very long time.
