My Two Cents on Apple

Let me preface this by saying I appreciate companies and organizations that think out of the box.  I enjoy different approaches to business and marketing.  Indeed, one of my dream jobs would be the artist who creates the different Google templates each day, (loved the one yesterday protesting government censorship of the Web, represented by a blackened out Google sign).  Individuals with creative mindsets are definitely the ones that thrust us forward in this world.  However, when companies become so large that they require smaller chain stores to be opened in order to fill the demand, the ideology is often misrepresented. 

Take for instance, the Apple store in the Staten Island mall.  The concept behind all Apple products really is revolutionary.  I respect the empire that Steve Jobs built, (although not the person he was).  But that store is so overly, ridiculously, pretentious.  I needed to make an “appointment” to inquire about a replacement for my cracked Ipad screen.  As if waiting weeks for doctors appointments aren’t enough, I now have to make an appointment to ask about my products.  When my appointed date finally arrives, I have to “check in” at the apple store, with some punkish looking youth clearly a decade younger than myself.  Even with my 5:30pm time slot, I am asked to wait for my “genius” technician, (they actually do refer to themselves as geniuses, I guess to add to the elitist ambiance of the place). 

Finally, what arrives to my aid is a guy with a nose-ring and a perfectly crafted blooming onion blow out, “ah, you must be my genius!”  He greets me with the warmth of a high school student towards their teacher on the first day of chemistry class, and takes the next 15 minutes not engaging me in any sort of casual conversation, but by just plugging away on his Ipad.  It was almost as if he was asking the Ipad what he should do or say next.  This is not appropriate human interaction.  Have we moved so far from social conversation that we have completely forgotten how to engage one another in normal dialogue? 

Then I am asked to wait by the tech bar, which is set up like a real bar, only minus the traditional refreshments (booo).  The stark setting of the store actually bothers me.  Jobs sacrificed individuality for simplicity in creating these “humanless” stores.  Even the tables have as much character as the cheap, do-it-yourself furniture found in IKEA.  I guess my biggest concern is that the store was packed with people, yet looked empty. 

My genius returns to inform me that it would cost around $365.00 to swap out my Ipad.    Screw that, I’ll work around the crack.  I leave disgruntled over having to make an appointment that I had to wait a week for just to be told something that someone could have informed me of over the phone.  Thankfully, my sister went back into the store and inquired again after we left.  Turns out my genius made a mistake, apple can exchange the cracked Ipad at no additional fee, but they cannot exchange an Iphone with the same affliction.  Oops. 

I learned a few things from this.  One, keep asking questions.  It forcing people to double check, which ultimately resulted in my new Ipad.  Two, appreciate Mom and Pop stores while they are still around, because I do not foresee their presence in the future.  Third, try texting, messaging, and social networking a bit less.  Unplug from the world and spend some quality face to face time with your friends and family. 

Finally, never try walking into an Apple store without an appointment, it won’t work.       

A Lesson Learned

Don’t fix something when it’s not broken.  Let me tell you why.  Almost two months ago I went for my second facial ever.  I loved it.  I enjoyed it so much that I was even suckered into buying the face care products that my facial hygienist raved about. “Dis exfoliant is wunderful becuz it removes de dead skin cells from your face; you can actually feel it eating away all of de impurities in your skin,” said my heavily accented Russian beautician. 

What the hell, why not?  $65.00 later I walk away from the Hilton Grotto Spa with a product called Oasis Rejuvenating Exfoliant, which sat planted firmly on my shelf collecting dust until about a week ago.  It’s that time of the month when my face was breaking out ever so subtlety, and I thought maybe my new, fancy-smancy exfoliant would stop that breakout before it started.  Hesitant to try it all over my face, I restricted application of the clear liquid to only my chin. 

The directions say apply a layer of Oasis Rejuvenating Exfoliant, (for all skin types) on your skin and let it sit for 15 minutes.  After that time, apply moisture and go about your day.  After a few minutes my chin starts to burn.  Well, the lady said that would happen,” I thought.  After 10 minutes it feels pretty bad, so I decided to wash it off.  Only after I washed the liquid off, my chin was still burning.  HOLY CRAP WHY IS IT STILL BURNING?!  I sprint to the mirror to look at my firey chin.  Where once was skin, now was a faint outline of red, raised flesh.  Not unlike turf burn.  I put my chin in the running, cool water of the sink faucet to help satiate the burning sensation.  No good.  I tried aloe vera, Neosporin, and Bacitracin.  I even resorted to carrying a cup of milk around with my chin dipped inside, (Okay, so my rationale here was I needed a base to neutralize the acid, and you know what; it did the trick for a while). 

I go to bed angry at myself for freaking out about an almost non-existent blemish on my face and taking such drastic measures.  When I awoke the next morning, I grabbed a mirror with the careful hesitation and precise movements of that Joker scene in Batman, when he unveils his new face.  Only instead of laughing at what I saw I started crying.  A nice big scab had formed around my chin.  It looked so bad that my brother, who doesn’t notice new haircuts, new clothes, different nails, or dropped lbs, even commented, “what the fuck happened to your face?!” The horror. 

I go to work and find myself explaining the situation over and over again to every inquiring coworker.  I stare oddly at the ones that don’t comment what’s on my chin because man, if that was something left over from breakfast they wouldn’t even tell me?!  One of the older guys at work pulled me over, and covertly whispered, “I have something for that, I’ll be right back,” and disappeared from sight.  What the hell?  He returned 20 minutes later with a small bottle of Oxido de Zinc.  “I picked this stuff up in Mexico, it’s illegal there and you need prescriptions for it here, it will take the sting outta that burn”.  At this point I'll try anything.  Since milk wasn’t quite doing the trick I slobbed on some of the heavy, chalky white cream on my face. The directions were all in Spanish so I couldn’t even decipher how to use the Mexican concoction.  I work with teens, so I endured a lot of snickering, snide remarks and sideways glances from many of the prepubescent youngsters.  Awesome.

To top off my already insecure mindset, my friend’s ex boyfriend, who I haven’t seen in almost a year, waltzes in through the doors.  Granted, it’s my friend’s ex, but still I did not want to look like scar face on the one and only time I see him in a year.  Damnit why doesn’t my hair shield this? Then, as if purposely synchronized, ghostface killa of WuTang, (God I feel stupid writing that) walks in right behind him and stares awkwardly at my chalk face.  There’s nothing like tons of teens, gym juiceheads and famous rappers staring at your self-inflicted wound to make you feel great about yourself. 

Thankfully, 6 days later, my chin has healed.  I don’t think there is any scarring but ladies and gents, be forewarned, don’t fix something that isn’t broken!  My skin is not bad at all; I could have spared myself this whole big embarrassment and saved $65.00.  Thank God I didn’t use it all over my face.  I also will never be going to the Hilton Grotto Spa again and nor will I ever be buying any of Shira Cosmetics, Inc. products. And, if you were one of those people that saw me during this 6 day mental torturefest and didn’t say anything I can’t wait to find food in your teeth, so I can say nothing at all.