
On Saturday, I joined the other 700,000 people who spent part of their day waiting in line at the Apple Store. What made my experience unique is that I was the only person in line at 3 pm—and remained the only person in line for the next 20 minutes.
I arrived at the Apple Store with my brother and saw the ropes outside with no one nearby, so I walked inside. An employee asked if she could help me and I said I was there to pick up an iPad. She said, “Congratulations!” and asked me to step outside and wait in the empty line. Since the iPad is for work, I just needed to pick one up—no need to play with one, decide between the different models, or pick out accessories. At any other store, I would’ve able to go straight to the cash register, purchase what I need and be on my way.
My personal salesman arrived, asked for my name and said, “Congratulations, Jonnie!” He turned to my brother and warned him that I’ll ignore him for the rest of the day. I told him I’m a software developer and I just need the 16gb model for testing. He said, “Need! I like that word. You need it!” He then said he’ll check in the back to see if they have any left—after waiting in the empty line that whole time.
He came back with box in hand and said, “Congratulations, we have one available for you.” Next was the long list of extras to sell me. I know it’s their job to get me to buy a dozen accessories, but I ended up repeating, at least a dozen times, that I only needed the iPad—half of them was to turn down Mobile Me after he insisted I wouldn’t be able to completely experience the iPad without it. Each time I said I didn’t need any accessories or additional services, he looked like a deer in headlights, as if no one has turned them down before. He then said, “Jonnie, you’re looking at me like I’m a putz.”
It was finally time to pay for it, so I handed him my company card, and he says, “Congratulations, you’ll be the first at your company with an iPad.” I laughed and said, “Actually, we already have ten.” He looked shocked, then continued processing the order with an uncomfortable look on his face. This entire time, I tried my best not to reveal I work for Adobe—to avoid any unnecessary awkwardness. For the receipt, they needed an email address, so I painstakingly said, “jhallman@…adobe.com.” He paused for a moment and asked if I work for Adobe. I said I did and he exclaimed, “You guys hate us!” I assured him we don’t and said we just want Apple to support our platforms.
After the order went through, he said, “Congratulations, you now own an iPad.” But before I can go he said they were required to activate the iPad in the store “to make sure it works.” Can you imagine if I was a fanboy, dying to video tape the unboxing? That would’ve hurt. He led me to the ‘activation girl’ and said, “Jonnie needs his iPad activated …He works for Adobe.” From the tone of his voice, I felt compelled to ask the girl if that was code for something.
The whole experience just made me feel so awkward. I remember when I could walk into an Apple Store, tell an employee what I need, pay for it and leave. They would treat me like a regular person and talk like one too. I realize it was the release of the iPad, but the entire time I felt like I won it or needed their approval in order to get it. Congratulations? I’m a consumer there to purchase a product. The ordeal left me a little sick, as if they expect me to be that Apple fanboy who flaunts every iGadget, helpless without them. I do own a Macbook Pro, an iPhone, and now an iPad, but I’m not that guy.