Bite Me, Apple!

I finally decided to resurrect my iPod a few months ago. I had used it only occasionally since I started working at home. Previously I had used it as a little sanity in an insane office space.
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But when Scott went back to work, it became my job to walk Cous Cous. Nobody decided this intentionally: it was decided when in a month, she ate Wee ‘Burb’s yarn doll, some paperwork, and (the last straw) part of my nightstand drawer. A…a nightstand drawer???? It was a simple choice: either she heads to the pound, or she’s walked in the mornings.

So, walk we do! A few months ago I tried to load some new songs on to my iPod and discovered none of the computers or cords in my house would accept it, meaning I couldn’t load or transfer songs. I shrugged it off and figured I would deal with it later, maybe ask for a newer one for Christmas.

But this last week I started a walking workout program (more on that in another post), and I needed better walking music to get through the half hour workout. So I decided to make a trip to what I like to think of as Douche Central: some people call it the Apple Store.

I can’t stand these stores. I walk in feeling like I should be frisked and surrender my Blackberry and go in some back room where everyone chants “iPad is king, iPad is king, download my apps, download my apps.”

There’s some weird tech cult that I do not understand, and my ignorance to these ways is apparent any time I enter the store.

So I talk to the woman who accosts me with her iPad the second I walk in the door. She’s not even listening to me, she’s just staring at her iPad as if it will translate what I am saying into Apple language (wait...they don’t do that, right??).

I explain to her that I have tried the troubleshooting techniques she’s mentioned, and she suggests I make an appointment with their “Genius Bar” and bring in my laptop. On my THIRD time saying it is not a laptop issue, she finally sighs and swipes around on her iPad to pull up the Genius Bar schedule.

I should say here, the Genius Bar (I want to take a shower every time I write that) is like 12 feet from her. And the HUMONGOUS screen shows the order of people waiting to meet an Apple Genius is right over her head. But her iPad tells her nobody is available for my piddly little problem until 1:30. It’s 11:30.

She tells me there’s another Douche Central “not far” in Uptown. She starts telling me I can totally get there in like 15 minutes. Um, I used to live in Uptown. I know she thinks I’m some suburban rube because I told her I wasn’t interested in driving 30 minutes again to make another Genius appointment. Anyway, the bottom line is, you can’t get there in 15 minutes unless you’re in a helicopter. And she’s made my appointment for 11:50.

I make it there at 12:00 and am greeted by another iPad, who tells me “One of the Genuises will be with you shortly…or is it Genui?” Hardee har…shut it, Face Pubes.

I’m told to wait on a bench. I should say here, in these stores the Genius Bars are elevated about 20 feet. The benches are practically on the floor. Remember when you grew up and your parents would be like “oh they’ll all be working for you someday?” These are those kids. We’re not working for them, necessarily, but we are going to bow before their ability to get us mobile entertainment at our fingertips.

The Genius who is here to help me looks like (I’m dating myself here) Brian Krakow from My So Called Life after 10 years of hard living. Actually, he looks like what would happen if Brian Krakow and Mikey from American Chopper mated…and spent a lot of time drinking in his parents’ basement while watching SciFi and CartoonNetwork anime marathons.

He also refuses to look me in the eye, though he is not armed with an iPad, he’s just clearly not familiar with looking at feminine eyes that aren’t attached to an Avatar.

After looking scornfully at it, he takes my little Shuffle back to a room and comes back with a cord. Plugs it in, and all of a sudden I hear “DING!” and see “Stephanie’s iPod” on the screen. I just…what????

I look at him, sort of accusingly. He says he didn’t do anything. I don’t believe him. I have the same cord at home, I tried it, I got nothing.

So, now it’s almost 1:00 and I’ve wasted two hours to find out there’s nothing wrong with my iPod. Feeling discouraged, I go home and search for my cord that matches his. I want it on the record: I had tried this cord before.

Put it in the computer. Ding! WTF??????

I’m positive he did something in the back room. Maybe it was all the chanting? Or maybe he was just sitting back there giggling “watch this, I’m going to reset it and reconfigure it and then go out there and tell her it was like this the whole time.”

Whatever it is, Cous and I are walking in style!