The Nokia Was A Keepa

A few years ago, I bought my very first smartphone. I was in my mid-forties at the time and had held off on getting one for quite a while for various reasons, but alas, the time had come to switch to modern times. 

As I was a bit insecure about it, I had asked a friend to join me to help me pick. With the help of my friend and a helpful shop assistant, I picked a smartphone I liked. Then came the time to transfer my SIM card.

Me: “My current phone is quite old, so I don’t think my current SIM card will fit in the new one.”

The assistant laughed and told me that they were quite used to such things, and he was sure the phone wasn’t that old.

I took out my seventeen-year-old Nokia. I will never forget the look of astonishment on his face. He treated my old phone like an archeological relic, very carefully removing the old SIM card so he could transfer the data to a new one.

My friend, who knows me and my quirks quite well, just about died laughing.

I am now quite happy with my smartphone and make good use of it. But at times, I still get a bit nostalgic for my relic of a phone. Loving my little Nokia was one of the reasons I waited so long to get a smartphone. It survived several falls, the battery lasted forever, and it served me very well over the years. It currently resides in a place of honour in my drawer.