My repaired phone looks good, which is great for the earth
Don’t you care at all about aesthetics?! A friend asked when I handed over my phone to him to take a picture of me against a backdrop I liked, thus allowing him access to my cracked phone screen protector — chipped parts exposed, dust embedded. I can’t remember how long it had been like that. Six months? Maybe a year.
My excuse for not getting it fixed was that I “just” had the screen protector replaced when I dropped my phone again, they aren’t cheap, and I was paying the price for being a klutz. Actions have consequences. I had to punish myself and save money by not catering to every whimsical/ consumerist desire.
Also, I care where the cracked phone screen ends up. It’s noble to extend the life of what you bought. By delaying the life cycle of my damaged screen, and putting off its inevitable arrival at a landfill, I’m doing the least good I can for the planet.
And yet, I care about aesthetics. I was indignant that such an insinuation would be made of me, despite my frugal, environmentally conscious glory.
So, friend’s words were a kick I needed. I went to the store to finally have my screen protector replaced.
At the store, Adam from the UK, with that card-swipe machine in his hand, said it would be Dh150. Would I be okay with that? I was okay with that. But I had to soothe myself saying, relax, cheapo, it’s worth it. Beauty is its own reward. And an unshattered screen is beautiful.
For further justification, I told myself, even if I had gone to an authorised dealer to get the job done, it might have been 20-30 bucks cheaper, but I would have to factor in cab fare. Better to suck it up. It’s such a small thing to spend on and derive satisfaction from — even if it reminded me of an argument I had defending Marie Kondo, queen of declutter.
Some people are impatient that she advocates getting rid of clutter, which can be read as an argument against sustainability,
against reduce, reuse, recycle. I do see the wisdom in not listening to her blindly, but also, you can’t deny the sense of accomplishment when you see a cleaned-out cupboard, desk, room, hard drive, shoe rack.
As I watched Adam rub down my screen with one of those dust-eating pieces of cloth, I thought of what we pay for just the shopping ‘experience’, how some companies can sometimes do it right. It’s quite something to fleece a customer and make them feel good about themselves. Adam reassured me
that the cracked screen would be recycled. He then slipped on a phone cover with the help of a little device that ensures screen protectors are slid on perfectly, no air bubbles.
But a solitary mote of dust did cause a bubble. He had to start again. Lord, another wasted protector. I felt conflicted. I didn’t want to pay and get stuck with an air pocket, however tiny. Adam acknowledged this. Don’t worry, he said, that would also get recycled. He removed the screen, it cracked and he disposed it. He cleaned the surface again, and pulled out another new protector. This time it sat perfectly. No dust, no air pockets, all glossy and clean and new. No scratches.
Dh150 is a rip-off for a sheet of plastic. But even as I spent that money, I walked out feeling pleased, loving my clean phone screen, typing faster, and smoother. I enjoyed the feeling as I walked across to the cinema and made it well in time for my show of A Star is Born.
I typed a note to my friend updating him about how the phone aesthetics situation had now been brought under the control, thanks to a rebuke.
After I spent Dh150, I walked out feeling pleased, loving my clean phone screen, typing faster, and smoother. I enjoyed the feeling as I walked across to the cinema and made it well in time for my show of A Star is Born