Monday, July 14, 2008

Selling Out to the 310

I should be really happy right now. Ecstatic, even. I am not. I am not happy because my impulsiveness, desire for pretty, shiny, new objects, and inability to let go of nostalgia/accept change, is preventing the total elation I should currently be experiencing.

Here's what's going on:

Around 9:30ish this morning I was walking back from the gym and passed the Apple store. I noticed the line was down significantly, and if I jumped in then I might only have to wait behind 25 people or so. I thought, sure, why not--rumor has it they are conquering about 100 phone owners and hour so it looked totally doable. Two hours later I had about 4 new friends, some enemies (you Sir with the balding head of hair and the wire-framed glasses who deemed it necessary to speak loudly on your phone for an hour about how you should just go find the iPhone re-supply truck in the back), and was standing just at the cusp of entry into the store. It was not what I planned on doing this morning, but about 45 minutes in--I realized there was no turning back. And at long last my patience was rewarded when a little man in a blue shirt came to the door and I was allowed inside.

I should preface this by saying the entire wait I had a feeling something wasn't going to work out. I joked to the nice mom next to me (because I guess her 11 year old son REALLY needed the new iPhone) that I was probably going to get up there and they'd be like, "uhhhh sorry, not gonna happen for you." I just had a sense.

Anyway, my dude's taking me through all the initiation steps, etc etc, and the time comes to transfer my number from my existing Verizon account. My beautiful Maine number, with the 207 area code dating back to high school--a final lingering and essential component to my self-identity.

"Hmm. Not working," Blue-shirted iPhone dude says. I knew it. I knew it would happen!

"The number won't transfer? I can't keep my number?"

"Nope." Blue-shirted iPhone dude doesn't seem to care much. In fact, he seems pretty apathetic about the whole iPhone enterprise, and I begin to doubt his enthusiasm or the likelihood he would be on "my side" in this matter.

His explanation for the impossible transfer? Miserable:

"No. It won't work. AT&T just wont. Not in this coverage area." A well-spoken man. Probably jealous of those pretentious assholes at the "Genius bar". Wait is he laughing at me? Am I making that scary freaked out panic mode face I do whenever in distress?

"So there is nothing I can do? Unless I go to Maine right now and buy my iPhone there, I can't keep this number? I just can't?" (The 12 year old inside of me is dying.)

"No." He wouldn't last a day at the Genius Bar, asshole.

"Okay, great, what's my new number?" I want to cry. Remember those business cards I made for myself? Thanks to Steve Jobs they are now useless.

Bitter blue-shirted man gives me my new digits, watches me sign over my first born child to AT&T and there I am, holding a highly coveted object, but feeling somewhat let down.

I leave, new phone in hand, new number impossible to memorize, but within ten minutes I am sending emails while I sit poolside. It's pretty sweet.

And that Maine number? I'm still holding onto it. I think there is a way to essentially end service but keep the phone number (I am pretty sure I did something like that when I studied abroad) or I am just going to try to figure out how I can go to AT&T when I am in Maine in May and somehow merge the number... or something.

Whatever, I'll get over it. Maybe I am really happy right now? Yeah, this iPhone is awesome. Damn you Jobs, Damn you.

On a side note, some dude paid what I can only describe as a Mexican worker to stand in line for him. Really! Santa Monica is VERY white and there's a Mexican man in work clothes standing five people in front of me the whole time I am waiting, and he doesn't really fit the iPhone demographic (not trying to be a close minded asshole, I just can't think of a better way to explain). He gets to be around number two in line, and BAM some Cali white dude shows up and shoos him away. Was he evil? Genius? An evil genius? It was uncomfortable But I think about half of the people around me wished they'd done the same.

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