Sunday, November 23, 2014

Deflowered.

For my birthday I was treated to a new iPhone by the Mister (Kenny, in case you couldn't figure that out, which could be confusing because My Life Lately- who knows).  He usually buys us the upgrades, and we were due as we were both walking around like nerds with dorky iPhone 4S's.  It was embarrassing. 

We went to the store for the upgrade, and we traded in our old phones, too, because the last time the dude told us that we'd get more money for them if we sold them ourselves and we never did that so we got zero dollars. We learned from our past mistake and were happy to take the hundred bucks for each phone.  

In the process of trading in the phones, I needed to disengage the "Find my iPhone" app that was installed on the phone.  

Reader. 

This is where it all went haywire. 

Because I always always always have trouble logging into my app store, something to do with the fact I don't sync up my stuff to my computer at home, because I am of the belief that when my phone and computer sit next to each other on the table they should "cloud up" and just sort of know what the other thing is doing, because Steve Jobs promised they would. Or if he didn't promise that, it's what I was led to believe and now he's dead, so I have misplaced anger when my stuff doesn't work.

After several futile password attempts the Best Buy Guy said, "Hey, maybe I can log in on the computer and we can access your account that way." 

Seems like a good idea. Right, Reader? 

Except to access my account on the computer we had to go to my security question.  Let me go on the record as stating that usually my brother sets up all my Apple products, and syncs them and whatnot, and generally steps in where Steve Jobs fails me. The account the Best Buy Guy was accessing was an email account I didn't even know I had, so I'm under the belief that it was one my brother set up for me, to make everything back up and cloud together. 

So The Guy retrieves my security question and reads it out loud, in tandem with my reading it on the computer screen: "WHO TOOK MY FLOWERS"  he reads. Loudly. Very loudly.  

It took my brain about a half second to process that question, realizing he read it not quite right, and my security question was in fact "WHO TOOK MY FLOWER" which sounds a whole lot less innocent than some random thief who may have at one time stole a vase of wildflowers from me. 

Did I say The Guy read this question out loud? Loudly? So loud, the couple sitting next to me uttered an, "Oh my!" and all the remaining Best Buy Guys beelined over to me because now I've definitely got everyone's interest.

I'm not one to normally embarrass.  I mean, it can be done, but it takes a lot. The Mister told me he'd never seen my face turn that deep a shade or red so fast, and in fact I actually hid my face in my coat, with an "Oh, my God!" escaping from my lips in the process, and then I started laughing to the point that tears were rolling down my face. 

Once my Best Buy Guy realized what the question was, he started laughing, too, and I think he wanted to ask me on a date, and then the other guys said, "In all my years, I've never had that as a security question before!" Of course not, Guy.  And  also, you were like twenty years old, so it's not like you've had a ton of "all my years" under your belt. But to his point, normal people choose questions like "What was your high school mascot" or "Name your childhood best friend" and steer clear of security questions that bring their vagina into play.   On the other hand, it's not like one ever expects that question to get read aloud in a crowded store, either. 

I still needed to answer the security question, and luckily I guessed correctly or that would have been even MORE humiliating, but I got it right on the first try. Which, I will go on the record as stating that perhaps this IS the best security question, because your high school mascot can change if you switch schools, and most people have more than one best friend, so really it seems like the best question ever.  You're welcome to steal it, Reader.  I'd tell you the answer, but that's between me and everyone who was at Best Buy that day.  It's our little secret.  

Now the only question I have left to ask is, did I choose that question myself or did my brother set that one up for me? Because it seems like it would be something he would do seeing as he's a fan of Friends and Monica was always talking about her flower, but at the same time he also knew the answer, which is more information about my vagina than he probably ever needs to know.  I really can't image setting that question up for myself, because 'my flower"?  Would I really type that?? I just don't know, Reader. Some days I just don't know. 

And oh by the way, Reader, I found out that stupid ringtones don't switch over to new phones, so I had my $1.39 Shake It Off for about one whole week and two dances before I lost it all. Gone. Just like my flower. 

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