I-Appointment

My girlfriend loves H&M.

Personally, on my list of clothing stores it doesn’t really rank very high, either for my shopping or for hers. For my own part, they don’t usually have my size, and as far as stores I go to with her, it has a number of drawbacks. First and foremost there isn’t a boyfriend bench—an area where I can comfortably sit down and wait for her to try on clothes, give my opinion from time to time and play with my Blackberry.

So a couple days ago when she mentioned that I should meet her at H&M, I knew I would have some time to kill. To make matters worse, my Blackberry has been acting up lately—stalling, having trouble processing tweets and generally not performing up to its usual standards. Two doors down from H&M is the Apple store, and given the geriatric state of my phone I thought I might as well take the opportunity to look at an iPhone. Some friends have given me rave reviews, but my biggest concern is sending emails. Having tried it a few times, I don’t trust that the thumbs that got me through hours and hours of Super Mario Bros. and Street Fighter, are the right size to work such a small touch screen.

So while my beloved was at the shock rock, party palace, run by the future fashionistas of tomorrow, I saw my opportunity to go talk to somebody about getting a new phone. When I walked into the brightly lit Apple store, I was very impressed with the sheer number of salespeople. In particular, they were using the Wal-Mart model of a greeter at the front of the store. I approached the young, geeky-looking twenty-something and asked who I would talk to about an iPhone.

Dressed in a bright blue turquoise shirt, and holding a clipboard, he seemed like the kind of guy who was about to graduate with a degree in computer science. “Do you have an appointment?” he asked.

“A what?” I was a little bit confused. Usually I’m used to just walking into a store and letting some over-eager salesperson walk me through all the things I don’t want or don’t need. We’re in the middle of an economic recession. The fact that I’m even considering an iPhone should be enough for this guy to help me learn all about the iPhone, and why I can no longer draw a breath without one.

“Do you have an appointment, sir?”

“No,” I said I as I tried to remind myself not to sound angry. Maybe this was some new sales technique, based on some weird form of reverse psychology. . . . If that was the case, it wasn’t working.

“Well we do have an opening later on. We schedule you one in about an hour. The appointments for an iPhone are 45 minutes to an hour long.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“Well, no sir. Our appointments usually book up fast. Are you planning to buy the phone today?”

“No, I was planning to look at one with some help from a salesperson while my girlfriend is next door at H&M. I only have 15 minutes or so, so if you could go find me somebody to help me out that would be really great.”

He’s clearly disappointed, but nods and walks off. He heads for the back of the store, walks through a door and then comes back. “Somebody will be with you in 5 to 10 mins.” My girlfriend shows up .  .  .

“Well do you have a card or something? Cause I can’t do this right now. I have to go"

He hands me a white card with a silver Apple logo:

Jason
Apple Store
Specialist