WWMD? A Lesson From Angus MacGyver

It's a little behind schedule, but my phone finally broke. I've never been able to keep a cell phone for very long. Last year my phone died after eleven months and three weeks. This phone, by some miracle of God, made it to twelve months, three weeks and four days. Barely. I could have been more prepared. I knew it was coming: my reception and service have not been very good since the Fall. Sporadic signals, dropped calls and lost messages. I suspected there was something else wrong though because since last Friday night, it's been making a clicking sound every time it is opened or closed. I blame myself. I am an irresponsible and uncaring phone owner and I treated it poorly-even though I rely on it shamelessly.
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My cell phone is the last thing I put in my purse. I set it precariously on top of a hairbrush, a stack of paperwork/mail, a cell phone charger, a camera & charger, an overstuffed wallet (not money), two and a half pounds of make up (because one never knows what one might do after work); $22.37 in loose change and two sets of keys. Toss in some pony tail holders, random flash drives, my little writing pad, and 5 to 8 pens, and it's a war zone in a bag. At least once a week, maybe twice, somewhere between the front door and the car, I drop the phone. It either slams straight down, bounces, or slides along the ground. Each time it happens, I act dramatic and shocked, and swear like a sailor as I pick it up. An ignorant onlooker would think I actually cared about the new scratch across the front or the huge chunk of missing plastic. On the days it does make it safely into the car, chances are it won't make it safely out of the car. I've abused it mercilessly by dropping it in puddles (rain water and other unknown liquids), and I've let it sit in the blazing sun for hours at the beach, sometimes on top of the Mexican blanket, sometimes just tossed on top of the sand. It once landed in some scrambled eggs and another time it spent far too long sitting on a bar table next to a few martinis. And you know what happens then.
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Back to the clicking. My phone rang last night as I left the grocery store and as soon as I flipped it open, I knew. It clicked and then it went strangely limp. It was as though it was double jointed. I could still talk on it but had to hold it together so it didn't swing backwards. The ridiculous thing is that even after all of the clicking since Friday, I acted shocked and appalled. Persecuted. Why was this happening to me? And what the hell was I going to do? And then it came to me: What Would MacGyver Do? Duct Tape

I'll address other uses for duct tape at a later time.

"If I had some duct tape, I could fix that."
-MacGyver-