The lot of them.
Since my last review of all smartphones ever, I acquired a new smartphone. Last October. Much shinier, much larger, and much more expensive.
Much tougher too, you’d imagine. Was it shite tougher, ’twas no more sturdy than dandelion fluff.
The phone in question, is the OnePlus 3. The Four, I like to call it.
It took it upon itself to also abandon me, six months in to our epic discovery of how handy technology actually is, just as I was cycling along appreciating the fact that it had actually lasted six months without a scratch.
I reached for my jacket pocket (waterproof and all, because I treated that phone like royalty hey), only to find that the Four had taken a leap for freedom the one time I hopped on my bike without zipping up my rain jacket pocket.
Off it went, not a shite given, and dived straight onto a busy Galway road, at rush hour, if you don’t mind, for fear it wouldn’t get run over and destroyed beyond repair.
Apparently the phone cover and ‘shatterproof’ screen protector were no match for the big ball of concrete which met the Four as its dream of freedom, as well as its screen, were shattered.
95% of the screen still worked, but it quickly gave up on bothering to display anything. The lazy feck.
It has finally been fixed, almost two months later, and is generally just being class and fast and hi-tech as feck, so I haven’t spoken to a single human in person since I rebooted it, last night. God bless phones and their ability to allow us to communicate, ha?