That’s me standing at the display. I’m the perplexed looking guy, with the puppy dog head tilt; I’ve perfected it for just these occasions. It’s not always real, but it keeps people around me disarmed. I like that.
People like the scruffy blond guy hunched over beside me who looks like Scott Weiland crawling out of the bushes after a 3 week disappearing act. He’s the guy in an aqua T and a namebadge dancing the lanyard dangle. He's the guy trying to show me new gestures. Apparently all the gestures I know aren't good enough. They've always gotten my point across before. MyEx knew what they meant. Why not Scott? Maybe I should show him how my gestures work. Probably won’t help his sales pitch, but it would communicate something to him.
He's trying to communicate something else. He’s wiping his nose a lot, but I’m not sure that’s part of the communication, unless he’s a baseball pitcher too. No, Scott here is trying to tickle my buyer’s bone. I don't have the heart to tell him he’s touching the wrong thing. I'm already ready to buy, at least in concept. That’s why I’m here. Scott's just gotta show me something special in a tickler--a reason to buy from him. He's showing me a runny nose and gestures. It’s gonna take more that to make me buy a laptop—especially today.
I'm Christmas shopping. I know it's early but I hate the mobs. Actually I'm scouting. If Scott does his job, I'll buy today. If he doesn't, then I'll probably wait until after Christmas to buy somewhere else.
No pressure Scott, but this had better be better than the last Stone Temple Pilots CD.
See, here’s the thing. The laptop is a balance beam jiggle between want and need. Technically, I have a laptop already. It was a wonderful Comaq donated to my by my mom. It has served well, but it’s getting too frustrating to use. I explained this to my friend:
“Why do you need a laptop? Don’t you already have one?”
“Well yeah, my mom gave it to me.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Well, it’s battery doesn’t have much life, and it’s slow. It takes forever to load. That’s time I could use for typing.”
“Typing?”
“Yeah, I’m using it for writing.”
“You’re kidding.” She’s obviously not a writer.
“No, I need to write.”
“I’ve got a typewriter, I’ll send it to you.”
Sigh. “you don’t understand.”
“You’re right.”
“Besides, the one my mom gave me doesn’t have wifi.”
“Barbaric!”
“I know! Wait, you’re being sarcastic.”
“You’re right again.”
See? This is what I go through. These are the people I surround myself with. These are the people I call my friends and they don’t understand how a wifi connection is a lifeline to an internet blogger who’s bogged down and trying to cut the cord to his home office.
Heathens and ne’er-do-wells.
Scott understands. Scott knows my pain. Scott wants to sell me a computer before Christmas. I know better. If I wait until after Christmas, I can get a better deal—unless I buy a Macbook. That’s gonna cost me the same price, whether I buy it now or in 3 months. That’s what Scott’s counting on, and he’s pitching the gestures, cuz he knows windows doesn’t have them.
Now I’ve explained what a maddening shopper I am. I’ve also explained how MyEx will attest to this. In fact, after the first half hour with Scott, she’d have put her hand over my mouth, and said, “Just give him one.” That’s because she knows what’s next and she hate’s this part even more.
Cuz after an hour and a half with Scott I say, “Well, I have to go check something, out, I might be back.” Yeah, might be back. What’s happening is that I know there’s a Best Buy just a few blocks down from this Apple store. I’ve scouted it out as well. I just haven’t gone in. I’m like the lion looking over the grazing zebras going, “you know, I really don’t know, I’d like to see something in a wildebeest first.”
So to Wildebeest Best Buy I go. Another friend has recommended I check start up and shut down times.
“I know that, what makes you think I don’t know that?”
Why would I do that?
Seems some friends know I’m impatient. They think if a computer doesn’t do what I want in 60 seconds or less, I’m likely to throw it across the room.
Huh…
Here’s the thing though. I really do want to find something at Best Buy. I don’t want to buy an Apple, even if it’s what I want. I’m a PC guy. PC guys don’t buy Apples, no matter what the funny little guy on TV wants us to believe. When’s the last time you saw a Southern man yearn for a New York lifestyle? Same thing. I can’t stand by and watch acts of Apple aggression.
I’m buying an Apple. That’s right. I spent 15 minutes in Best Buy. That’s long enough for me to take my friends advice. I turned off the PC and turned it back on. The best ones took twice as long as the Apple. I won’t throw the Apple against the wall. That is a selling feature Scott didn’t tell me about.
So after a few further feature tests like the “how cool does this make me look?” and the “Can they wedge these tiny keys any tighter,” then 10 minutes to hang around and look like this trip was worth while (and if MyEx had been with me, I’d have taken an extra half hour to prove the trip was worth while).
So I go back. Scott’s glad to see me. He shows me his “hi” gesture. Yes, Scott. That’s great. He also tells me his last name is Boydson. It means “son of Boyd.” Yeah, Scott’s not the ripest Apple salesman to fall from the tree. Still, he’s the one who sends me on my way. Macbook in hand.
After I leave the Apple store, I make two discoveries. First, this is my first big fun purchase since the divorce. Sure, I’m using it for work, but it allows me to play away from home a little more. I haven’t bought anything for me in a long time, and I’d forgotten how good it feels.
The other thing I won’t realize until a few days later. Scott gave me something else with my computer. Something I didn’t ask for, and something he didn’t charge me for. Scott gave me his cold. It looks like I’ll be able to use my wifi while snuffling from my couch. I am so free…
No comments:
Post a Comment