RAZR
Some years back, Motorola marketed an ultra thin phone by the name of RAZR. It was quite popular with people, even the hicks out in the country in deepest darkest Kent.

I imagine that the female half of one of the pairings of troglodytes found around the county had acquired one of these handsets, through fair means or foul and was busy showing off her black new phone. I guess that late in 2006 her partner had taken offence to her giving it more attention than him while he was driving into Canterbury, and tossed out out of the window in a careless fit of rage. I would imagine that it probably wouldn't have helped the situation all that much either.

The reason I bring this up, is not just a break from the usual "I changed someone's number in a mate's phone and hilarity ensued" posts. Back in 2006 I was starting work in a call centre for a British Telecommunications company. Due to the rigorous standards they hold their employees to (ha!) each new recruit had to undergo 6 weeks of training before being let loose on the general public. The beauty of this training was that it didn't start until 11am, so I could have a leisurely lie in, eat breakfast while listening to the connection on Planet Rock at 9, and miss out on the school run. As I went off, I put my own phone, a dinky Nokia number, in a pouch on the left hand side of my belt, as I didn't want it falling out of my jeans on the ride.

When approaching Canterbury from the West, there is a long sweeping road (now, sadly, with a set of traffic lights halfway down) between the main A2 and the ring road, separated by a roundabout. Owing to a lack of traffic I didn't have cause to drop my speed much from the dual carriageway down this long sweeping road while riding in on my motorbike. I swept round the roundabout, marvelling at the sparks flying from my peg grinding on the tarmac, then flipped my bike over so that I was leaning to the left as I prepared to come off the roundabout at my exit.

It was at that point that my back tyre, instead of propelling me forward by means of grip on the road surface, hit the aforementioned RAZR phone instead.

The sudden lack of propulsion meant that my leaning of the bike stopped being a showy way of turning a corner and started to just be me falling over. I went down on my hip, shattering my Nokia which took the brunt of the landing, rolled a few times and came to a rest against the kerb, deciding that I didn't need to move for a while and I was quite peaceful here, while the bike slid down the road, coming to an abrupt halt via a crash barrier which ended up snapping the front forks off.

I was lucky enough to walk away. Save for a few cuts, bruises and scratches I was unharmed. The bike (a Honda CB500), however, was written off - and that's how a mobile phone wrecked my bike.
(jamesthegill opens new tabs with his scroll wheel, Thu 30 Jul 2009, 17:36, 3 replies)

Great!
You found my phone, can I have it back please, it cost me £40?
(Rsoles, Thu 30 Jul 2009, 19:15, closed)

It was probably your own bloody fault!
If indirectly. Used to ride meself, until Mr. BMW shattered my elbow, but mobile phones and bikes just don't mix. Phone in the jacket pocket, pocket not zipped up, smallest of wheelies, there goes the phone. Lost an expensive Samsung, and many packets of cigarettes, that way. :(

Those Razr's are slippery buggers though, probably the phone equivalent of diesel.
( Rookie You'll have to speak up, I'm wearing a towel, Mon 3 Aug 2009, 12:09, closed)

Ah, I see where you're coming from
But it wasn't my phone that I hit.

Mind you, I could've been riding at a speed slightly nearer to the speed limit, so I'm not blameless.
(jamesthegill opens new tabs with his scroll wheel, Mon 3 Aug 2009, 20:23, closed)