An open letter to my phone that fell into the D.C. sewer system,

I know what you’re going to say. You think this is all my fault. Just because when I dropped you and you rolled into the sewer, I never moved.

Well. I’m sorry.

I don’t have those kind of motor skills, okay. You were rolling under the drain, I was wearing my new jeans. “Our” friends didn’t help either. They laughed.

I know you’re upset that I had to leave you down there. But I tried. Really. Tried. I called the police, I asked those people at the hotel. No one would come. What was I supposed to do? Climb down into the sewer? You knew from Day 1 we didn’t have the sort of relationship.

I’m sure by now you’ve heard that I have a new, shiny, thinner phone with better reception and more features. That just happened. I went to see the new phone, one thing lead to another and I wound up taking him home to meet my roommate. And my parents love him.

I hope that you can try to understand what it was like for me, on the other side of the sewer. I might not have been wet or covered in filth, but I felt bad. Really. Bad.

Well. I guess that’s that. My new phone and I have plans tonight. He has some cool new ringtones that I want to hear.

And, I hate to say this, but if you find your way out of the sewer, don’t come home. There’s no room for you here anymore. I moved your charger to make way for the new one.

We’ll always have texting. Just don’t actually send me a text, okay? I don’t want my new phone to be involved in this.