It’s a very old story in horror fiction: someone commits an act of violence with intent to kill. But some things just won’t stay dead. Some things reappear and haunt the guilty. Some things return.
In this case, my Bluetooth earpiece.
Remember iOS 5? My Motorola and I were inseparable! It was the first I’d ever had that didn’t hurt my ears, my constant companion, my little dark red-trimmed flip-mic confidante. Then came iOS 6 and trouble. Many had issues with the Bluetooth all around, for listening to music as well as talking to people. Dear old Motorola only failed on one front: communicating with the only person I talk to really frequently, i.e., a good 80% of the reason for its existence.
I tried troubleshooting. I greeted every OS update with hideous hopes! Eventually I sat the little darling on the dresser, where it languished for months* while I frantically wiped makeup residue off my phone several times a day.
This week’s update seemed so promising. But when it, too, failed, I lost it and threw my little friend against the wall. It fell back. Again I hurled it!, hearing something break off. Cursing myself for acting out my frustration, I retired to bed Friday night feeling more than a little foolish.
…And then it began.
The next day, I began playing a game on the phone soon after waking. It took a while, in my muzzy-headed state, to realize that the volume seemed awfully low. In fact, the sound seemed to be coming from the opposite side of the room.
Motorola! Alive! But in what unspeak(er)able form?? I looked around wildly, but saw nothing. Eventually, I forced the phone to forget the earpiece and ended its spectral whisperings.
The next day, I found the ear loop, lying on top of the armoire. Nothing to be alarmed about, I assured myself. The parts of my dear departed friend were bound to turn up eventually.
And so all continued in quiet, until yesterday. I awoke, got up, pulled the pillows back to make the bed as I always do, and saw Motorola lying next to the space where my head had been!
[Would everyone please hum the shower-scene music from Psycho to themselves for a few seconds at this point? Thanks!]
At any rate, Motorola is alive and largely intact, back on the dresser, though he will not tell me how much battery he has left. Others might say it’s because he’s unpaired, but I think we all know he’s just not speaking to me.
*Losing only some small fraction of its battery, which should have been my first indication that something eldritch was afoot. More seriously, if you want Bluetooth with more standby than the heads of Easter Island, I can’t recommend Motorola enough.
Quite Small Adventures 