Is the name of the phone I treated myself to for Christmas. Well, ok, it was actually a free contract phone but it was Christmas. And it seemed like a treat at first because my old Samsung had been developing a life of its own, deciding when it would like to go to sleep and when it would like to get up to go to work and thoroughly ignoring any attempt of mine to motivate it (i.e. throwing it against the wall and refusing to cook it breakfast). “Here in this curvaceous gleaming gadget lies salvation!” I wanted to scream, as I scurried home with the fancy bag in the way you do when you’ve just bought something expensive and want to show off but simultaneously are scared will be stolen so you end up juggling said purchase to and from various hidey-holes about your person like a flea-ridden body popper.
Pronounced ‘Hewey’, provoking images of Donald Duck’s ragamuffin nephews and what the cat might’ve done all over the sofa, I found this to be the first of the mobile’s downfalls. I prefer to call it the infinitely more exotic ‘Hawaii’ if anyone is bothered enough to ask what it is. After I’ve explained to them that it’s a phone. The second feature to have the novelty quickly vanish is the touch-screen. Of course I was already accustomed to touch-screen devices from early memories of shrinking back from the mind-bending of trips to the Science Museum and the like, those job centre daleks that spew out job suggestions on paper the quality of toilet roll and those tube-ticket machines. But this was on a much, much smaller scale. Having not gotten round to buying a stylus to prod at it, I’m still relying on my fingernails. Yes, fingernails. Fingertips won’t do. My hands stopped growing when I was about 5, you see, an abnormality people often exclaim about and something that makes guys feel better about themselves when in my capable hands. You’d think small fingertips would be good at touching small buttons (the smut train stops here) but evidently not. You go to create a message starting with something (amazingly original like) “Hello” and it’ll come out “lol” due to a mixture of the imaginary buttons being placed in too close proximity, not feeling the force of my feeble stabs, and predictive text, which is another ‘modern’ concept I have reluctantly embraced. I thought it would speed up the texting process. Access Denied. No wonder I get unlimited texts with this deal, the service providers know this phone would be a piece of shit to text with so cheerfully added it to the package knowing only those on suicide watch would actually want to use it. In tapping away like a frenzied woodpecker at the screen I fear the strength is being diminished and it’ll eventually spontaneously combust in my hands sending shards of plastic into the faces of nearby mobile phone salespeople. Hopefully.
What with it being a touch-screen model, and me liking to do things with my hands (CHOO-CHOO!) other than text constantly, it needs a good wipedown at least once daily. Another helpful feature of the U-571 or whatever is its icons linking you to the applications it presupposes you’ll need the most on its desktop. So when I’m carefully rubbing it with the cloth provided (thank you, Next, for this humble shirt) the time and date button whizzes around, I find my MSN Messenger and Youtube have swopped places and a connection with Myspace is being attempted. I don’t even have a Myspace. I doubt the creator of Myspace even has a Myspace anymore.
Contacts. Easy enough to find if it’s someone you’ve recently dialled or received a call from: one button will take you there. And once you’re gassing to them the button next to your ear/thumb will frequently be depressed by accident (much like the other participant in the conversation). But searching for someone specific? Good luck to you. It’ll be quicker to write. The buttons are roughly 3mm x 3mm and of course arranged differently to the text set-up, yet not a qwerty format either. It’s just plain old alphabetical. I had to learn my alphabet all over again. To the tune of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star of course.
The button (this review is all about ‘buttons’ isn’t it? Cadbury should sponsor me) to turn the alarm off is even smaller. They just want to torture sleepy people. No ‘snooze’ for you! By the time you’ve gone through the menus figuring out how you’ll be wide awake and ready to send the Huawei to the same wall-e death as the Samsung.
CAPSLOCK. To be used in times of surprise and anger. You’ll be surprised at how angry you become seeing as there is no continuous capslock function; instead, you must press the case button each time you want to add a new letter. F,U,C,K, Y,O,U.