My DH finally bought an iPhone the other day. I say “finally” because he’s held out for a very.long.time.
His five-year-old Nokia was, in his mind, perfectly adequate, but it started to show signs of ageing – and I (gently) suggested it was time it was euthanised.
“It’s got to go! It barely works!” I urged [okay, maybe I wasn’t very gentle]. “You need a smartphone. How about an iPhone for Christmas? I’ll buy you one.”
Which really means he’d buy it, because he pays the credit card bill, but he reluctantly agreed this was a good idea. He wasn’t sure what to opt for, though. An iPhone or the Samsung Galaxy?
He went back and forth. Christmas passed. Every day, I’d ask: “Well, shall we buy your present today?” But he was still deciding, still weighing up the pros and cons of the iPhone versus its peer.
I’d raise my eyebrows, absolutely astonished that anyone could take so long to buy one of the most artfully polished gadgets anyone has ever designed (I’m an Apple kind-of gal).
The new year arrived and DH still didn’t have his Christmas present. Our shopping styles couldn’t be more different, like apples and pears, I realised (his, measured, restrained and thoughtful; mine impulsive, more like a hungry hyena – though, to be honest, I’ve known this for a decade).
At last, as the Dubai Shopping Festival started, I felt we were getting close. DH had read loads of reviews online, talked to a tech-savvy friend, visited several stores selling both rival phones, tried them out, and, finally, the stars had aligned.
He bought a gleaming black iPhone 4S, despite not being a convert to Apple at all. “You’ll love it,” I promised. “It’s worth the money.” [more than 2,000dhs, even though it’s not the latest model].
“I hope so,” he replied, yet to be won over. “The Samsung looked great.” [and must have looked even greater when DH discovered half his contacts had vanished].
Then, the very next day, the email arrived, on a community Yahoo group I belong to: “Brand-new Samsung Galaxy for sale. Won in a raffle and still in its box. 800dhs.”
I can’t tell him, can I? That if he’d waited just one more day…