While out fishing on Lake Mead, near Las Vegas, NV, I thought it would be a good time to test the swim capacity of my iPhone. Now, nowhere on my device does it say that my phone was rated for any certain depth, but it also clearly does NOT state that my phone CAN'T go to any certain depth.
In any case, in order to conduct the test thoroughly, I set up certain parameters. I drank exactly two more beers than I should have. I was very hot. I had numerous people phone me on the lake when I was trying to relax, in order to elevate my irritation level. I then proceeded to jump into the lake from the back of the boat with my phone in my shorts.
This was a spontaneous test of the immersion capacity of said phone, and as I launched myself off the little vessel, attaining flawless cannon ball form, I felt the weight in my pocket and panicked. Now, I have seen Wile E. Coyote practice the running in air bit, hundreds, if not thousands of times. I also tested this, and can tell you, I had time to look at the camera, but not hold up a sign before I plunged into the lake.
I did not feel or hear a zap, but somewhere in my wallet I'm sure it happened.
I immediately exited the lake yelling profanities that would make my Marine Corps daddy blush. My friends, God bless their little hearts, instantly tried to console me with comments like, "Maybe it didn't get ALL THE WAY wet," and "We'll let it dry on the deck, it'll be ok." I felt like I was surrounded by politicians telling me everything was going to be ok, while they new I was up the creek. In retrospect, I don't remember anyone actually looking me in the eye while these comments were made. I shall deal with them in good time.
I pushed and prodded and shook the phone in an attempt to free it of it's watery demons. I felt a glimmer of hope in the fact that nothing poured out of the thing as I held it in the bright sunlight. I waited a few hours before trying to turn it back on. When I checked on it's progress, I noted the screen had turned an eerie shade of white-- I suppose it was a sign the ghost in the machine had vacated the premises.
Needless to say, my phone was dead.
What to do, what to do?
A stiff bloody mary and my decision was made.
Off to the Apple store...
(To be continued in my next installment)
