A Kind Of Blue

It's no secret that if my house was burning down and I had to rescue one thing from the flaming wreckage, I'd be hard-pressed to choose between my hot pink Kitchenaid mixer and my shiny white iBook. (Uh, sorry Sean. Sorry, cats. I sort of assumed you'd all be able to tie some sheets together or something. We're only on the second floor.)

But my Kitchenaid mixer is my firstborn, and I guess my iBook has sort of been suspecting for a while that the firstborn is always loved the most (come on, none of my other siblings got a trip to Hong Kong over the holidays, DID YOU, SUCKERS?) and so last night, he started misbehaving. He wanted my attention, and he wanted it bad. And he decided to get it by holding his breath until he was blue in the face.

I mean, I'm guessing that's what happened. Because suddenly I noticed that my screen had taken on a pale blue cast. I checked a) the lamp in my living room, b) the preference menu on my computer, and c) that I had only had one small glass of Bailey's and not seven large ones. (Because, God, who even knows anymore? The Christmas eating and drinking is still going on and Christmas was over two weeks ago.) I restarted and I re-calibrated and everything was still blue. And getting bluer. And vibrating.

Today I called Apple, after joyously discovering that I still had 12 days left on my one-year warranty. I spoke to Maggie, and I hate to say this, Internet, but Maggie was kind of a bitch. Wouldn't you expect Maggie to be sort of hip and cool and maybe wearing a headband and totally rocking it? Wouldn't you think, working for Apple, that she'd be sort of groovy and fun, and that maybe you'd have a conversation about The Arcade Fire before she asked for your serial number? I mean, she probably gets a pretty good deal on her iPod accessories, wouldn't you think? So why'd she have to be so mean and gruff and bored-sounding?

Maggie: Hello, this is Maggie, may I have your name?
Self: Hi, I'm Holly
Maggie: Hilary?
Self: No, Holly
Maggie: Haley?
Self: HOLLY!
Maggie: Bunny?
Self: Sure
Maggie: And can you give me a brief description of the problem, Bunny?
Self: My screen is blue. And sort of vibrating. And getting worse.
Maggie: (After a century's worth of alternating silence, heavy breathing, and typing. Also slurping. Presumably from her Big Gulp, but really, will we ever know?) I can give you a troubleshooting consult over the phone. That will be $49.
Self: But....I don't need to troubleshoot! I hardly think we can make my screen less blue over the phone. I just need to know where I can send my computer to get it fixed. Trust me, I've troubleshooted. Or troubleshot. Whatever. I have a problem, and my iBook needs to be repaired. And I've only had it for less than a year. And I have a warranty.
Maggie: We can't send it in to be repaired until we've done the troubleshooting over the phone.
Self: And that's $49? Even though my computer is basically NEW and I have a streaky blue vibrating screen for no reason?
Maggie: Yes. When we've done the troubleshooting, we'll send you a box and you can send the computer to us and we'll repair it.
Self: But...but......
Maggie: Slurp, slurp
Self: But I've rebooted and re-callibrated and I got my geeky boyfriend to do all sorts of geeky things, and he says the screen needs to be replaced! Because the screen has gone blue and weird and swirly and streaky! And we can't fix it! And EVERYONE ON THE INTERNET says it needs to be repaired! We went to chat rooms! I promise!
Maggie: We need to do the troubleshooting before we can send it out for repair. We'll send you a box after we've done the troubleshooting. It costs $49.
Self: So I'm giving you $50 to send me a box?
Maggie: We need to do the troubleshooting over the phone before we can send it out for repair. It costs $49.
Self: Maggie. I don't mean to be a bitch, but this is ridiculous.
Maggie: Bunny, I'm going to hand you over to Rick.

Now Rick was the kind of Apple employee I'd been hoping to reach. Rick was awesome! Rick and I are totally going steady now. Rick was a PRODUCT SPECIALIST, you see, and this, I think, meant that Rick was A BIG DEAL. Also, he was definitely wearing a headband and rocking it, you could just tell.. We bitched about Maggie for a while (I think they might have dated once, before she kissed his best friend at the office party and then Xeroxed her butt for him when no-one was looking, because he was kind of bitter about her too) and then I gave him my address so he could come by and have a drink sometime. Or, you know, send me a box so I could mail in my computer to be repaired. Whichever.

So tomorrow I bid my iBook farewell. My KitchenAid mixer is totally jealous because iBook is getting a vacation to California with Rick and now she thinks I love iBook more. But I sort of think iBook planned it this way. That dirty minx.