While the excess sugar was coursing through my veins and I received a buzz into my iPhone alerting me of a new message, little did I know that fate that would connect my iPhone with the hard smooth-brick ground that was the pavement in Sydney's CBD.
Yes, I dropped my iPhone tonight. My heart stopped as the Apple iPhone disappeared from my fingers, the slippery coating shifting itself from my grasp and landing on the floor beneath me.
And let me just say this…
It is one durable fucker.
Go see for yourself.
Two minor scratches on the corners and a bit of wearing on the tint on the camera which I rarely use.
I have to tell someone so it may as well be you – my blog – and anyone else in earshot.
A part of me is still concerned it won't work. A part of my wishes I had left the rubber grip on which barely worked in my pocket. A part of me wants to jump off of a cliff. But I'm more or less dousing that part of me in mental kerosene and threatening it with a mental match.
Here's how fine the iPhone is.
Seriously. The Apple iPhone is one durable fucker.