All I wanted was a new cell phone.

My old one was several years old and it was beginning to take on a life of its own.  If I didn’t hold it just right when I put it up to my ear, it would turn itself off.  Sometimes when I was trying to dial a number, it would let me input nine digits, but on the tenth one, it would turn itself off again.  I was ready to throw it out the window.

Besides that, it wasn’t cute.  Oh, when I got it, I thought it was cute because it had a blue face and before that all the old ones were black.  But now my kids had phones that fit in the palm of you hand and had little baby computer-type screens on them.  Now those were cute; mine was antique.

I was getting offers left and right on the internet and in the mail for free phones and great plans, so I decided to do something.  I began by calling my old cell phone service provider and asked if I was eligible for any free stuff.  I, like most humans, love free stuff.

They said that on my next “anniversary” I would be eligible for an upgrade.  Since my anniversary was three months away, I would have to grin and bear it with this old phone.  It started getting worse, and finally my kids wouldn’t even bother calling me on it because they knew it would turn itself off every time I tried to answer it.  But I made it.

I went into the phone store and asked about my “upgrade” and they pointed me in the direction of a couple of phones that looked just like the one I had. I was puzzled.

“The lady on the phone said I was eligible for an upgrade.  These phones aren’t an upgrade … they’re the same thing I’ve already got,” I tried to explain.

The woman was unfazed.  “Well, these are the free phones right now.  For only $49.99 you can upgrade to this little gem, and for only $99.99, you can have this cute thing with all these bells and whistles.”

I was incredulous.  I wanted to say, “You mean I’ve been this great customer for all these years, and my “free upgrade” is really one of these antiques that you can’t sell anymore?”

What I said was, “I’ll have to think about it.”

So I hotfooted it back home and opened one of the email solicitations and sure ‘nuff there was an offer for a really cool phone that was free “after rebate”**.  (**Key words, to be explained a little later.)

So I ordered this phone.  It arrived while I was out of town and by the time I saw it for the first time, one of my sons had it all figured out.

“Mom, I’ll trade you phones,” he offered.  This is a sure sign that I did something right, in the electronic sense of the word.  This is a rare occurrence for a mom.

My other son looked it over and said, “Mom.  Mom.  Mom.  This is the coolest phone.  You’re not supposed to have cooler stuff than me.”  I was so proud.

But then I called to cancel my old phone.  Do you know how hard that is?!  “Why are you canceling?  We can make you a better offer!  Why didn’t you call us first?  Would you reconsider?”  It went on and on.  And on.

When I finally convinced the guy I wouldn’t change my mind, he got ugly.  “Well, you can’t cancel without giving us a request in writing thirty days before your service is to terminate,” he informed me.

I couldn’t believe it.  I don’t know for sure if he was just trying to scare me, make it difficult, or there really was this fine print about thirty days, even though I was no longer under contract.  But I dashed off a letter anyway.  It was the principle of the thing now.  My old phone finally got cancelled.

I started filling out the rebate form for the new phone.  Pretty simple, except that you have to include the UPC symbol from the box.  (Please note above that I was out of town when the phone arrived.)  You got it … the box was long gone.  My free phone turned out to not be free at all. 

Oh, well.  At least it doesn’t hang up when I answer it.  And it’s REALLY cute.