At the Sprint store, Natahlee finally called me over. “Now you’re here to get a new Treo?”

“No, I already got the Treo. We just added me to the account. I need to get a phone. I also need to turn in this phone for $25, for the Treo I already bought.”

Natahlee typed some things into her computer. “Now are you Michele?”

“No, I’m Joanna.” Hadn’t she just called my name?

“Oh, we need the primary account holder to add a phone. Because there’s the contract involved.”

Remember how Mallory promised that I could pick up the phone? That Michele didn’t have to go down to the Sprint store?

My voice started rising, in pitch and volume, uncontrollably as frustration and rage well up inside my body. “We just talked to customer service, and they PROMISED that I could pick it up! We made SURE!”

“Oh,” said Natahlee, “Well, that’s customer service for you.”

I pulled out my Verizon cell phone. “Calling them isn’t going to help,” warned Natahlee, backing up. “Uh, I’m gonna go check with a manager.”

I dialed Michele and told her what Natahlee had said. “WHAT? I made sure you could pick it up!”

“I know!” I replied, “I made sure you made sure!”

Natahlee returned. “Okay, the manager says we can do it this way. Is that the primary on the phone?”

I reluctantly handed Natahlee my phone. There’s something personal about cell phones, kinda like underwear and toothbrushes, things you don’t readily share. And Natahlee was holding MY phone with closely bitten fingernails and speaking into it with stale cigarette breath.

After sorting that out, I got to pick out a phone. “So you want a Treo?” said Natahlee. She just wasn’t getting it. “You want a camera phone?”

“Just show me your cheapest phone,” I said.

She pointed at the updated Samsung that I already have with Verizon. It’s a flip phone, which I love (I don’t like having to hit a special combination to undo the keylock). “How much is that one?”

“$10,” she said. Well, I would get $25 back for Duncan’s phone, and this one was $10. Looked like a no-brainer. I would save $15 by getting a brand, spankin’ new phone.

“I’ll get that one,” I said. “Here’s the old phone for you to credit $25.”

“Okay,” Natahlee tapped at her computer. “Hmm, I’m not finding that phone. It used to be $25. Now we don’t take it.”

“It used to be $25, like two days ago?” I said. “Because customer service told me I could get $25 for trading it in, and TWO DAYS AGO, Rachel told me I could get $25 for it!”

Natahlee shook her head. “It’s not on my list. Do you want to see my list?”

“NO I DON’T WANT TO LOOK AT YOUR LIST. I WANT SOMEONE AT SPRINT TO FOR ONCE SAY SOMETHING THAT’S TRUE!”

“Well, Rachel may have told you that, and you can talk to Rachel about it.”

“Well, is Rachel HERE?”

“No, but you can come back and talk to her.” She didn’t bother to tell me WHEN Rachel would be in.

Steam must have been coming out of my ears. I was furious. I wasn’t on speaking terms with Natahlee at this point, otherwise I might have asked what the heck was the matter. It’s possible that I was making Natahlee nervous by standing there fuming, or it’s possible that I was emitting bad energy, because for the next HALF HOUR, Natahlee moved her trackball and tapped at her keyboard, and her computer just kept crashing.

Finally, she turned to the guy at the computer next to her and said, “I quoted this phone to her at $10, but it’s $20.”

“$10 it is,” said the guy.

So here’s this fellow, in this obvious position of authority, he must have noticed that this woman on the other side of the counter is obviously upset at the service she is not receiving. And yet he does nothing about it? What are managers for, anyway? Just knock $10 off a product because, yet again, their employee can’t get her facts straight?

Thus ended my Sprint adventure. I walked out with both phones. I don’t think I’ll be returning to demand my $25 from Rachel. She lied to me once. She can lie to me again. Besides, Duncan had mentioned something about keeping the old phone around as a spare.

Now, the girl who never wanted to have a cell phone has TWO. “You can put one in each pocket!” my mom says. My father-in-law just sent us his old PDA phone, so I might be using yet another one soon.

At least I only have to deal with Verizon about that one.