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Adding and Subtracting - Blather. Rants. Repeat.
A Møøse once bit my sister ...
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Adding and Subtracting

It took two days, but Eleanor finally joined the 21st century with an iPhone of her own.

Any number of times, I'd offered to upgrade her to one, either when one was available on our account or when I was going from a 3 to a 4 to a 5S myself.  Never received any interest from her.  But then the Gohonzon ladies started texting her in the ordinary course, and she wanted to be able to reply off a screen that wasn't too tiny to see anything, as the display on her $15 Nokia Burner clearly (or not so clearly) was.  So I gave her mini-tours of my existing 5S, and of my prior iPhone 4 (cranky, but still in service as a backup)- she got the concepts, but both had keyboards that were too small. So off to ATTLand we headed Sunday afternoon, where we ran into the Corral of the Bros.

Sammy was the designated Bro to sell Eleanor on a product.  We quickly settled on a 6S Plus- not This Year's Model that just came out, but bigger and easier to see than my reliable 5S.  We also figured out how much memory she'd need for her needs and how much it would cost over a 2-year contract.

But then Sammy went bro-rogue on us.

Other than their floor model, this store had no 6S Plus models in stock- but a nearby store "up the Transit" in Lockport did.  We were more than happy to make the 7-mile trek to receive and activate it that afternoon.

That's when Sammy's Head Bro Andrew made a face and walked him into the back.  When they came out, awww too bad, Lockport's already closed. But we can have it transferred here in a day or so.

Worse, Sammy embellished the story: These smaller-town stores just don't have the extended hours that we do here in The Big City, he claimed.  That set off Eleanor's BS meter (and, in retrospect, mine- strip-mall landlords tend to offer the same space to national tenants whether they're in Philly or Podunk).  So we smiled fake smiles, ordered 90 bucks of merch for the phone-including a screen protector, case and lightning cable- and right out the door we called Lockport.  Of course they were still open; Bro and Head Bro just didn't want to lose credit for the sale.  (And we'd even asked, as we always do- Eleanor used to work in commission sales- if Sammy would lose anything on the deal if we didn't buy from him. His mouth denied it, but Head Bro's actions, and the ensuing Actual Facts, suggested otherwise).

So Monday came and almost went; I picked up the purchased Parts and her old phone from Eleanor at work, and headed over at the end of my workday to see if the new 6S Plus was in. It was; but my happiness was not.  I avoided Sammy, and Andrew was not in, but I did my deal with Kevin, who is a fellow Bro and not a minion.  He did what needed doing: activating the new iPhone under Eleanor's existing number; moving her old burner-phone onto our vestigal landline-numbered mobile; and bricking my old iPhone 4 which had been housing the old landline (it still works with wifi).  Then he tried selling me all the extras, and got exactly nothing for his efforts.  No insurance. No extra data.  And no, we don't need peripherals because Sammy Bro had already sold them to us, but here they are and we're returning them, thankuvermush.

He asked why, so I told him- that we don't appreciate being lied to just for the sake of their corporate crap.  He went on defense- Oh, I don't think he meant to lie, he must've just looked up the wrong info.  His own iPad showed Lockport's hours being shorter than his own store's on Sundays- but closing at 5.  We'd been in there closer to 3:30 on Sunday afternoon. Plenty of time to have driven up there ourselves and had the thing activated and running on a day neither of us was, you know, working.  Finally, he stopped trying to defend his fellow bro, perhaps to save his own survey rating, and he took back all the unwanted parts (Eleanor found them online through Amazon for about $30 less total) and we're now up and running.

----

So we've added a device to the stable.  Earlier today, I subtracted a tooth from my own.

A few weeks ago, I went back to my longtime dentist after a half-year delay caused by an unpleasant (and now unemployed) hygienist.  The cleaning went fine, but the dentist checked out a broken filling I'd been walking round with for months and pronounced it unfixable.  I tend to believe him; he's spit-and-scotch-taped many of my bad-teeth ventures when he could, and this one was probably on its fourth filling, had some short-of-painful decay in it, and needed to go in favor of a crown.

I had reason to question whether to do it today, for non-dental reasons. (More about that to follow soon.)  But we agreed it was doable, and it is now mostly done. Well, done with a temporary, which will be replaced by the permanent in a couple of weeks.

It was good seeing him; I've been going to him slightly longer than I've known Eleanor, and there are few people in my life I'm not related to who I've kept in as much regular contact with for as long.  His boys are all grown, as our girl now is, and he's taking one of them to see a Broadway show in a week or so, an annual tradition between father and son.  I like shizz like that.

Somehow we also got to talking about Rochester architecture, and I discovered that his great-grandfather, around the turn of the previous century, had been the master of running the complex downtown Sibleys outdoor clock, in its historic building that Eleanor worked in and for at the time I met her:


I had to head into downtown after my dental work, and noted that the clock was still there, but not telling the correct time; apparently the building is being renovated into apartments, and part of the plan is to restore it.

Maybe someday Eleanor can take pictures of it telling the right time, even on her new phone:)

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