You know, spending a day in Memphis by myself as kind of nice. I always seemed to have a problem navigating that city, but by myself--piece of cake. I guess when there isn't anyone to talk to/distract me, Memphis isn't so bad. Plus, little by little, I am finally figuring that city out.
It was a long day with an even longer story (believe it or not, this is the condensed version), this is what happened: failed to find basic, white button-up shirt. Got frustrated with store personnel because their petite pants seem to grow three inches in length from one size to the next. Went to old lady clothing store to find basic white button-up shirt. Found several, but none of them fit right. Salesperson found some at another store in the same cluster of stores where the Apple Store is (didn't buy one because I decided they were too transparent--why do people think white shirts should be transparent?). Get my hair cut but not by the person I made the appointment with. On the way to Memphis the salon called to tell me that the stylist I had chosen was ill. I explained that I was not local, I was on my way, the only day I could do this was a Saturday so they better goddamn find me an appointment next Saturday, and hung up. They called right back with an appointment set an hour later with a different stylist. Sure, whatever. My hair? Awe-some. Worth every over-priced cent. Leave, happy.
Drive to suburbs to go to Apple Store. I had spoken to them on Friday to discuss the fact that I am an iMoron and that I broke my iPod. Approach the Genius Bar (*roll eyes*), tell the computer dude that I am an idiot. He says, "You are not an idiot. First of all you are not an idiot because you knew enough to buy an Apple product, and you knew to come here for help." At that moment I know I will never buy a Mac because I refuse to drink the iKool-Aid. I spend at least thirty minutes sick to my stomach because I know I will either have to buy a refurbished 60g iPod or a new 80g iPod to replace the one that I fucked up in a nano-second. The little piece of headphone plug was jammed in there so tight that the dental pick they used to try and get it out broke. Then he says, "I'm surprised this happened since this type of thing rarely ever happens to an Apple." See? iKool-Aid. Drink it. Love it. Live it. Join the Jobs is God iCult. At the end of the thirty minutes I recycle my beloved 60g iPod (that was half full) with a shiny new 80g iPod (the 60g is no longer being made). I feet sick about it. Why? Because my own stupidity made this happen. One simple little slip of the hand and *poof*. The Apple Dude offered a couple of other solutions: Buy a shuffle until I could afford a new iPod. 'Cause the iPod still worked, the headphone jack was just busted. There are no headphones that connect though the docking jack thingee. I don't use it with speakers--it is a totally mobile device. I am fickle enough that the 250 songs on a Shuffle just won't cut it. He congratulated me for knowing myself and knowing what I wanted. I wanted to throw up because I'm an idiot and he was annoying. But I didn't. I just left, drove home, called ME to vent (it was okay since she was lying down).
My mom called. I was positive something was wrong since she never calls. Her computer is in the shop. She told the "computer lady" that her ex-husband's ghost (my dad, she has two ex-husbands) was haunting it since it started acting up on his birthday. They pretty much thought she was crazy. Her computer had been in the shop for a week and she was going into Internet and email withdrawal. I told her about my day and how I felt terrible and had a terrible case of buyer's remorse. She said, "You feel bad because you feel stupid. It's not the money. You'll earn more money. Once you realize you're not stupid, you'll feel better." I love my mom.
No comments:
Post a Comment