I don’t claim to be the most daring of persons, but when my Samsung Impression from AT&T Mobility went screwy, I figured I would be OK to get it replaced for free. Granted, I go through phones like a carpenter goes through nails, so I know I’m sometimes the reason for their demise. In this case though, I didn’t cause this phone to die – as I did the last one, when I kept the phone next to a Dixie cup full of water. The condensation from the thin plastic on the cup sweat onto my bedside table and entered the phone, rendering it useless. No, it wasn’t full of beer – Dixie cups do have other uses. I tend to reuse cups as long as I can, whether they are from a fast-food visit or an airport terminal. I don’t know if I think I’m helping the environment as much as I just see it as a matter of convenience.
Regardless, I knew that this phone’s impending death was not my fault, and resolved to get a new phone without paying the approximately $130 plus two-year extension to my contract like last time. Everything worked on the phone minus the screen. It only took a few hours after the screen started malfunctioning, dimming and cutting out, for it to finally bite the dust. However, I could still receive and even make calls, albeit from the person who had just called me, as I had no touch screen to access the Internet, contact list or applications that lived inside.
As I was leaving a mobile wireless conference in Dallas when my phone was put on cardiac arrest, I went to the AT&T store south of town. The attendant had little interest in what I had to say and promptly popped the back of the phone open. He pointed out that a small glossy white square in the upper middle backing on the phone was contaminated by about a third of red. This means that a certain amount of dreaded moisture had infected the phone. I knew this from my last experience six months ago when I had drenched my phone with Dixie cup water, but I didn’t even check this time, secure with the knowledge that I was not the culprit and there was no way moisture or myself caused this incident.
I was told that a) the phone was discontinued; b) he could not help me get another one without paying full price, despite having insurance because the moisture tab voids the warranty; and c) I should get a GoPhone (AT&T Mobility’s pay-as-you-go service) in the meantime if I wanted to file a claim with the warranty division, as the phone was less than a year old. The store employee said I should not be enthusiastic about my chances. I noticed a police officer in full uniform standing near the attendant, and I reasoned that situations such as this led to his services needed. I shrugged it off and went back home to Austin.
I decided to try my luck at another AT&T store the next day, this time in central Austin. I was more nervous about the moisture and was told by the associate the day before that any amount of the insidious red smear on the tiny white tab meant that I was doomed to not receive another phone gratis. I am not entirely proud of myself but I went for the Wite-Out in my utility closet. After giving it a couple of drops, I realized I had over done it. As the correction fluid hardened on the tab, I picked at it with a penknife, trying to cleanly expose only the little square and it’s new white, though grainier surface.
I took a deep breath before approaching the second store, hoping not to completely embarrass myself and entered the doors with a desire to find the most sympathetic-looking customer service representative.
As I told my story again, the associate listened, but halfway through my explanation he proceeded to pop the backing off to investigate the glossy tab. He looked at it, glared at me a moment and then looked at the floor. Out of the side of his mouth he murmured, “I’m not gonna lie, it looks like Wite-Out to me.” I vehemently denied such an accusation, though I was clearly busted and wondered what shade of apple red I had immediately turned. Again I was directed to the warranty center, and I limped out of the store, humbled but determined. The associate had told me I was exposed as a fraud due to the fact that the square was not glossy but rough and grainy, and had specks of white around it. Back in my car I scraped off all the Wite-Out from the square, leaving a much duller version of its original veneer and trotted to north Austin, ready to face whatever fate the warranty center held for me.
After several attempts at targeting the center’s location with my Garmin GPS, I finally found it and went inside, rather dejected and not enthused about my chances. I explained the occurrence that led to my phone’s predicament and the pretty 20-something warranty manager assured me that I was completely under warranty and I had nothing to worry about. No sooner has I breathed a sigh of relief before she flipped the phone around and popped the backing open. She peered at it for a few moments and said, “Oh. Well, it looks like you tried so hard.”
Despite my attempts at subterfuge, the manager told me that she would exchange the phone at no cost, and that I was given a break this time around because everyone deserves one every once in a while. I graciously thanked her and told her I would be writing this piece about my experience. I’m sure she didn’t believe that I am a reporter covering the wireless industry, but as it was after the fact, I didn’t mind throwing it in there. Tragedy was averted and I received a new phone, largely due to the fact that I had misbehaved. I now keep a piece of tape over the tiny white tab on the inside backing of the phone, hoping it staves off any moisture or red-inducing action. I find this experience ironic due to my malfeasance, but can’t help but wonder what will happen the next time … roughly six months down the road.
