A funny break-up letter with the iPhone by comedy writer Chris Case.
Dearest iPhone,
I must admit that things between us had a great and beautiful start. I was in love with your bag before I even saw you. And when I logged onto iTunes for easy activation, I was enthralled with your sleek beauty. Remember our first night together? We stayed up all night getting to know each other and then you went to sleep in my arms. God, you were gorgeous.
Yet, a few weeks later, it seems that none of the promises that we planted in those fields of hope has flourished. In fact, after a brief and torrid first few days together, things have gone steadily downhill, making me realize that it’s best to sever ties now while we still both have our dignity and I have not smashed you on the sidewalk in frustration.
Unfortunately, simply put, it just didn’t happen for us. Nothing remains of what looked like a growing love, besides some memories and a few dozen photos that are now safely tucked away in my iPhoto, images of a love that once burned white hot, but now are just a flicker of sadness. How did everything lose its enchantment so quickly? All that remains is a bitter taste of what once tasted like such sweet candy.
It was a shame and still is, because when I saw you from afar before I could have you, I was so sure that you and your creator were infallible. But now I know the truth. No one expects such a relationship to fail, especially one that costs 600 bucks. I LEFT VERIZON FOR YOU!!!
But that’s not the issue. I want you to know that I do not feel good about myself. I do not feel good that I had to tell you in this way that your keys are too sensitive, that I tried to use you while driving and almost killed myself because I had to look down to use your “intuitive” keyboard. If you’re so intuitive, why don’t you know that I need more than three hours of battery life out of you. Every time we were together, you fell asleep on me at the worst possible time (not counting that first night—so sweet). And by the way, I think it’s a little snobby of you to refuse to work any of the hands-free systems (except of course BMW). If you have to be held all the time, then maybe you have some insecurity issues that need to be looked at.
To be honest, I’d much rather be writing about how fulfilled I am with you and how wonderful you are. It seems that you’ve fooled others before me and they are willing to ignore your obvious flaws. But they are shallow sheep! I need more. The fact that I have to hit three keys to make a phone call and I can’t dial out of my contacts just by typing is unacceptable to me. I don’t want to scroll through all of my S’s just to call Steve (I have like 80 contacts in “S” alone—five Steve’s!—sorry, but I have a life outside of you).& The last straw for me was when I found that if you are sick or hurt, I have to pay Apple 99 bucks a day for a replacement while you’re in the hospital. That is so unfair.
I want you to know that despite my decision to break up with you and give you back to my Mac guy, I’m keeping my fingers crossed that as we part, our lives may be touched with much joy, keeping in our hearts and souls the affection and respect we&‘ve felt for each other and hope that the next version of you is a little more compatible with what I need in my most prized and important companion.
A sad kiss on your tiny (wonderful) screen,
Chris
P.S. The Blackberry is not as pretty as you, but it gives me what I need for now.