Back To The Verizon Store

     So here's the conclusion to the  saga of the dreaded flip phone.
     As recounted in my post from  8/20/2016,      

...I recently replaced my cell phone with this little neanderthal flip phone,

...which is one step down the evolutionary scale from my old keyboard phone,

...though it's a pretty big step down.
      In fact, I've come to learn in the course of this ordeal (as every dealing with Verizon is, am I right?) that my keyboard phone is kind of the unique missing link between the flip phone,

...which is utilized by  only the most back-to-basics Spartan types,

...and the internet-infused smart phone used by most of the rest of the phone-endowed world.

   But I digress.
   Anyway, when my old phone broke the day before I was to leave for a 2 1/2 week trip to the West Coast, I, in a combined state of anxious haste, Verizon store-induced confusion and rank orneriness bought a flip phone to replace it.
     I immediately hated my new phone and was overcome with a gargantuan case of buyer's remorse.  
     But the next day I flew to Los Angeles  and I really didn't know what to do about my awful phone anyway, except to complain about it.
    In truth I think  I was just too focused on my own personal pickle to see the  pickle jar. 
   But then my daughter Claire informed me in a blog comment that there is a two-week window during which one can return a Verizon phone - the kid who sold me my flip phone neglected to tell me this - and my Facebook friend Susan advised me to cart myself back to the Verizon store, take a deep breath, and ask for what I wanted.  It was thanks to those wise counselings that I finally saw the light:  I was by no means condemned to live my life in flip-phone hell.
     Except that now I was in Los Angeles on co-babysitting assignment with Tom.  So when I tried to leave for the local Verizon store of course my 5-year-old grand daughter tagged after me crying out the little-kid battle cry:  "Grammie!  Where are you going?!  Can I come?!  I want to come!"
     Naturally my instinctive reaction was that the Verizon store was no place for a child.  But then Tom suggested that maybe my grand daughter wasn't to young to witness this paradigm of the  workings of the world. 
     So I made my way with my granddaughter to the Manhattan Beach area Verizon store,

...feeling somewhat more intestinally fortified, knowing I had a child to protect.

      The  girl who greeted me with the standard cool friendliness of of the typical Verizon sales rep listened to my request to return my unloved flip phone, nodded, and after an intimidating pause asked me if I'd purchased the phone at a corporate store, leading me to fear the possibility that if I hadn't purchased the phone at the right kind of  store then I wouldn't be allowed to return it.  I told her I bought it at the Easton store in Columbus, Ohio, as if she'd have any idea where or what kind of store that was. 
      Then she said she'd just look it up and asked me for my phone number.  After giving my record a thorough going-over my rep girl asked me if I had the box. 
      Do I look like I have the flippin' box?!  I wanted to respond, but I just said no.
      She then informed me that I could exchange  the phone but that there would be a $35 restocking fee.  I don't know whether the fee was because I didn't have the box or if it was just part of the standard juicing process.

   Anyway, it turned out by auspicious happenstance that  this store did carry  my old keyboard phone, which was all I'd wanted in the first place.

     I was so happy to get my new old phone that I put less than the usual effort expended in a Verizon store visit into trying to get  my rep girl to clarify for me:

1. Why it was more cost effective to pay the $109.99 price of the phone in 24 monthly installments of $4.58 each than to pay the whole $109.99 upfront (she told me I'd have to pay an extra $10 if I paid for the phone upfront.  Go figure), and 2. What these mysterious extra fees were that added up to another  $41.15.

     But never mind,  some things are not meant to be understood. I had my phone and it was all good.  
     And my grand daughter enjoyed playing with the box.