A year ago, I wrote about being offered a free Sprint phone as part of the Sprint Ambassador Program for bloggers.Â Â All the service, music, TV on the phoneÂ and other special doodads were included for free for 6 months.Â Sophia, being the gadget freak of the family, was extremely jealous, so much so that sheÂ convinced Sprint that she should get one too as my blog editor.Â
After six months, the service was cut off and Sophia went into severe withdrawal.Â Â She insisted that IÂ pimp myself out on my blog so Sprint wouldÂ include us inÂ PhaseÂ II of their Ambassador Program.Â What I didn’t realize was, that during the six months, Sophia had been givingÂ Sprint extensive feedback on the phone and the various services,Â which explained why Sprint offered Sophia a different free phone for Phase II, but told me to go to hell and use the Devil’s pay phone.
PhaseÂ II is now coming to an end, and all week,Â Sophia has beenÂ acting all jittery.Â She even kicked me out of bed a few nights ago, saying there wasn’t enough room for the two of us AND her Sprint phone all in the same bed.Â Â The next morning, I found the two of them cuddling together, the flip-top of the LG Fusic phone leaning comfortably on the softness of Sophia’s right breast, singing her a love song that was a free purchase, of course, under the terms of the Ambassador Program.
Two nights ago, we were driving home from the Valley, stuck in traffic on the 405.Â Sophia was reading her email on her phone.
“Oh God!Â Sprint is announcing Phase III!Â Â They’re already chosen the participants, but are leaving 100 slots for previous Ambassadors!Â The first 100 people… First come, first served!Â Stop the car!Â We need to sign up.”
“Can’t we wait until we get home?”
“Are you crazy?Â It’s only 100 people!Â And it’s some brand new exciting-sounding phone.”
“Can’t you sign up ON the phone?”
“No, we have to go online.Â I have the laptop in the trunk.Â We need to find some place with wi-fi.”
“We’ll be home in a half hour.”
She glanced down at her mobile Yahoo account.
“Look, there’s another email for you.Â They’re offering you a chance to sign up, too!”
“They are?Â That changes everything!Â Â We need to stop the car right now!”
I twirled the steering wheel, exiting theÂ freeway, nearly causingÂ three accidents, all that timeÂ thinking who gets to sign up for the phone first.Â After all – it’s first come, first served.
Right off the freeway was a McDonald’s.
“McDonald’s has wi-fi.”
“Yeah, they all do.Â It’s like $2.95 an hour.”
“OK, let’s do it.”
We pulled into McDonald’s.Â Sophia set up the laptop as I ordered a diet Coke, not because I was thirsty, butÂ because I felt weird sitting there without ordering something.Â Microsoft Windows booted up, butÂ we didn’t receive anyÂ wireless signal.Â Â
My luck.Â I picked the only McDonald’s in Los Angeles County without wi-fi.
“There must be a Starbucks around here,” said Sophia.
“Do you know how much wi-fi is in Starbucks?!”
“Now’s not the time to be chintzy.Â The clock is ticking.”
I visualized bloggers around the country typing on their PCs, signing up for a free phone while some Sprint executive was sitting inÂ Sprint headquarters counting down how many of those hundred extra phones were left to hand out first come, first serve.Â
Sprint Executive:Â “100… 99… 98… 97…”
It feltÂ like we were in an episode of “24,” and the split-screen was filling up with several different events all happening at once —
1)Â Sophia adjusting the laptop in different directions, hoping to steal some wi-fi.
2)Â Neil asking the McDonald’s manager for the location of theÂ nearest Starbucks.
3)Â Â The Sprint executiveÂ packing phones into boxes, one by one —
Sprint Executive:Â “91…90… 89…88…”
“I have an idea!” I told Sophia.Â “We can use the Sprint phone from Phase II to help us get the Sprint phone from Phase III.”
Sophia nodded, understanding my suggestion.Â The Phase II Sprint phone came with a USB cord that you could connect to the laptop, so you could use the phone as a modem.
I ran outside to theÂ parking lotÂ to search the glove compartment of Sophia’s Prius for the USB data cord.
Sprint Executive:Â “81… 80… 79… 78…”
I “sprinted” back into the fast-food joint, clutching the cord.Â We connectedÂ everything together — the laptop into McDonald’s outlet, the modem into the USB slot, the data cord into the Sprint phone.Â As we were about to make lift-off, the phone started to beep and sputter.Â Uh-oh, it was seriously out of juice.
“I told you to charge it last night!” yelled Sophia.
“It’s your phone.Â Not mine! I don’t have theÂ Phase II fancy-schmancy phone like you do!”Â I screamed back.
As in any tense situation, the affected parties began to blame each other for the miserable turn of events.
“Wait…wait…wait….” I shouted.Â “I have that emergency Energizer phone charger that Chelle sent me for my birthday!Â Â It’s in the car, still in the package!”
If ever another blogger had saved my marriage, this surely was it.
I ran to the car again.Â
Sprint Executive:Â “61… 60… 59…”
By the time I rushed back in, holding Chelle’s gift, everyone in the McDonald’s was staring at us, wondering if we doing some top secret government work.
Sprint Executive:Â “52… 51…”
All I had to do now was open the package,Â but it was impossible to do, eitherÂ with your hands… or with a McDonald’s plastic fork.Â Â I cursed Energizer and their Bunny.Â Â Â Luckily, a car key finally did the job and sliced the plastic.Â Â I extracted the emergency charger and tried to plugÂ it into theÂ Sprint phone, but I couldn’t figure out how to make it fit.
“Can’t you read?!” said Sophia, annoyed.Â “This charger is for your Nokia phone, not for my Sprint LG Phone.”
“Why do they have to make this electronics crap so complicated?!”
Sophia and I glared at each other.Â Things were getting worse by the second.Â Visions of divorce papers floated over our heads, all because of our greediness for this new Sprint phone.
Sprint Executive:Â “48… 47… 46… 45… 44…”
Our quest seemed hopeless.Â But as “The Secret” has shown us, if you believe it, good things can happen.
“Over here!Â Come over here!”Â called out a Voice.Â Was it God?
No.Â It was some Asian guy in a UCLA shirt, sitting with his Pocket PC on the other side of McDonald’s, beckoning to us.
“If you come over here you can steal wi-fi from the 1-800-Mattress store next door!”
We quickly made the move to the other side of the McDonald’s, right next to the display for their new “Honey Mustard Grilled Chicken Snack Wrap.”Â Â The good Samaritan’s kindnessÂ made us feelÂ guiltyÂ for theÂ harsh wordsÂ we exchanged with each other.Â We told each other how much we loved each other, and begged that the OTHER sign up first.
“You go first,” I told Sophia.
“No, no, you go.” she said.
The clock was still ticking.Â
Sprint Executive:Â “31… 30… 29… 28…”
“Well, one of us should sign up already!Â Go.” she said.
“OK, if you insist!”
Sprint Executive:Â “21… 20…19…”
Frankly, I was really glad I was going first.Â I mean, Sophia is great and all, butÂ I AMÂ the blogger.Â I’m the one who deserves the phone, right?Â I signed up for the Sprint Ambassador Program, Phase III.Â It took me about ten minutes, because I had some technical problems.Â I received a message that I would be under consideration.Â
“My turn!Â My turn!”Â cried Sophia, almost pulling her curly hair out.Â I gave her the laptop and she signed up as well.Â She got the same message:Â under consideration.
Today, Sophia received an email that she was accepted.Â They loved all the feedback that she has been giving Sprint.Â Â Her newÂ Sprint phone was in the mail.Â
I checked my email.Â I received nothing except for a few more spams telling me where to get some Viagra on the cheap.Â