Too distraught to respond rationally, she handed the little fella over to me and pleaded with me to do something. "How do I shut it off? Help me shut it off!" I demanded. I spread a tea towel out on the counter, removed the battery cover, battery, memory card and SIM card. I dabbed at the case futilely to try to get at more water, but its insides were sealed. Having administered Cell Phone Resuscitation, I turned to my wife and said, "It's a waiting game now. We'll just have to let it dry out."
The little phone lay pathetically splayed out on the tea towel. Thirty-six hours passed. My wife was working again today and was eager to get her phone back in circulation. I reassembled him, and on the off chance that God exists and he is generous enough to care about an atheist's wife's cell phone, I tossed off a quick prayer before holding my breath and pressing the power button.
It lives! HELLO MOTO indeed! Incredibly, the ROKR didn't miss a beat. My wife beamed as I handed her the phone. She checked her voicemail then returned ROKR to her pocket with a reassuring pat.
PS: I should add that whenever I come up with clever little phrases like cell phone resuscitation, comedic checkmate, or jihadist hydra, I look them up in google to see if someone else could be so clever. Turns out my search on cell phone resuscitation had thirty hits, and led me to this helpful site: The Cell Freak and an article titled "How Do I Save a Wet Cell Phone?"
Interestingly, Motorola installed a submersion indicator in the battery compartment, a little white circle about 4 mm across. When the phone is submerged, the indicator turns candy apple red, voiding the warranty. The MobileMistress at the Cell Freak advises that most manufacturers install at least two of these indicators, one in an accessible location to alert vendors and sales reps to the submersion, and the other a tamper-proof one located in the phone's insides to alert technicians.