The Intern: Volume III
The Second Coming in Phone Form
I held the iPhone.
My hand is still shaking. No, seriously, shaking. Like when you are in love with a girl and you really want things to go over well but you have to meet her parents and her dad says, “We’ve heard all about you, son.” Shaking. Like how Indiana Jones must have felt when he grabbed that golden head thing in Raiders of the Lost Ark, knowing full well he’d better run like hell, or else he was going to get crushed by a massive replica of Fred Flintstone’s prehistoric bowling ball. Shaking. I was in the presence of an electronic deity.
The evening began innocently enough--me and a couple friends had stopped by ABQ Uptown to go coffee shopping on our way to see Waitress. Then, across the parking lot I saw what I thought was the most beautiful full moon I had ever seen but turned out only to be that glowing beacon of freedom from PCs: the Apple Store insignia. I subconsciously drifted closer to its majestic glow, and a yelp escaped me: “I’ve got to see it!”
“See what?” my friends asked.
“What do you mean, what? The iPhone! Let’s go! C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon!” I yelled, pulling them harrowingly across the parking lot and through the heavy glass doors.
Never in recent memory has anything caused such a stir as Apple’s new iPhone. I mean, there was the Beanie Babies fad, accented by McDonald’s even more popular version--the Teenie Beanies--but those were namby-pamby stuffed animals. What we’re talking about here is the God-device, the only product in the world that could take the public’s attention off of Paris Hilton’s current lack of incarceration.
But are we really prepared, as a culture, for such a dramatic altering of our daily routines? Think of all the clutter in your life. You have your cell phone. You have your PDA, maybe a portable GPS for your car and, of course, you have your iPod. What a hastle! Step into the 20th century, you old fogey, and combine them all into one easy-to-use device sent from Heaven.
It was 9:30 p.m., but there were still 10 or 15 people crowded around the display table of assorted iPhones. When one opened up, I jumped at my chance to hold the fledgling Messiah of Electronics, and all I can tell you is that it is as sweet and simple as it’s cracked up to be … and it’s so small. Everything you could ever hope for, dream of or need all in one tiny machine that a toddler could master and that you can fit in your shirt pocket. All yours for either $500 or $600, depending on your hard drive’s size. And that is why I held an iPhone, and I did not, nor will I ever, as long as my cheap-ass Sanyo Sprint POS allows me to call my mother, buy an iPhone.