I must say, there is never a dull moment around here. 

As I posted this morning, I had plans to go ashore to get provisions today. I was also hoping to visit with Elizabeth, front desk goddess, in Brunswick this afternoon. That was the plan. 

Mark, one of our Resident Assistants, drove me to the 855am ferry at the state pier at Great Diamond Island. Pretty uneventful. I rode the ferry to Portland. Also pretty uneventful. As usual, I called ABC Taxi for a ride to the parking lot. I was carrying bags and what-not, it was hot, and I didn’t want to walk. 

I waited inside the terminal in the shade. After about ten minutes, I saw the orange taxi approaching the terminal. I went outside. As I was crossing the sidewalk, a large beer truck pulled up alongside the curb. It went just past me to park. The taxi was behind the beer truck. As I went to step off the curb to get to the taxi, I heard the warning beeps indicating the beer truck was now backing up. 

I don’t know exactly what happened next. I think I panicked and tried to stop moving forward so as not to get hit by the beer truck. But I came up short. What happened was I lost my balance and fell off the curb, landing face flat on the pavement. With the beer truck still backing up to where I was now laying on the ground, stunned, unable to move. Gravity is a heartless bitch. 

Luckily, the beer truck stopped backing up. 

The taxi cab driver and an employee from Casco Bay Lines ran over to help me up. I landed hard on my right hand and my left shin hit the edge of the curb. I got up slowly. I wasn’t bleeding, which was good. Unfortunately, I had been holding my beloved iPhone in my right hand when I went down. 

Yup. I cracked the screen. It is no wonder because it was quite the impact. There might actually be a crater in the pavement from the mishap. Just kidding. 

So I get into the taxi and replan my day. Obviously, I am no good with a broken iPhone. Never mind having been nearly run over by a beer truck, a broken iPhone is a disaster! Once I get to my car, I head over to the Sprint store in South Portland where I am informed I have insurance on every other device on my plan except my own iPhone. Great. 

The clerk at the store does recommend a kiosk at Maine Mall to repair my phone for roughly $100 though. I have lived in Portland just shy of a year and not yet graced Maine Mall with my lovely presence. I am just not a mall girl. Not at all. Nonetheless, I go to the mall, because my precious iPhone is broken (sob!). 

There, I meet Kazim of Cellairis. Kazim tells me he can fix the iPhone for $100 in twenty minutes. I tell Kazim he is my new best friend. I give Kazim my iPhone and walk away…

For 

The

Longest

Twenty

Minutes 

Of

My

Life…

Maybe darling daughter is correct in her assessment that I am overly attached to my iPhone in an unhealthy manner. Gosh. I didn’t know what to do without my phone. For twenty minutes. So I went to Starbucks for a caramel macchiato to steady my nerves. I had almost been run over by a f***ing beer truck, and I don’t even like beer!!! Oh, the irony! And now I had to spend twenty entire minutes without my precious iPhone!!! And what happens if Kazim can’t fix Precious??? WHAT HAPPENS THEN!?!

Well, thankfully, Kazim is a wizard. No, really, he is. Absolutely brilliant. He fixed my iPhone!!! Oh joy and happy days! Big shout out to Kazim from Cellairis! Here is what the broken screen looked like:


Thank you, Kazim!

Ok. After the mall, I went to Whole Foods for my provisions. Then I went to Planet Dog for a new toy for Emma, my fur baby. And poop bags. We needed poop bags. On the way out of Planet Dog, I noticed the most beautiful white rugosa roses:

The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. Although I did stop at Andy’s Old Port Pub for some medicinal and refreshing vino verde before the ferry ride home. 

I am back on the island now. Without a head injury, or tire marks on my back, thankfully. With a new screen on Precious, also thankfully. So all is well. Emma was happy to see me and I, her. 

Moral of the story: take time to smell the rugosa roses, for you never know when you might be laying on the ground staring down the tailpipe of a beer truck. 

Yours, Merryweather

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