The Apple Store

I went into an Apple Store yesterday. The one in Pasadena. I went in with a computer guy so that I could get an ipod. I have a real good understanding of porn but a sketchy understanding of computer tech so I brought a techy with me. It's a good thing I did. The employees at the Apple Store in Old Town Pasadena are all zombies. One girl was standing on the floor listening to something in her ears. Her hands were behind her back. I asked my techy where you pay, where was the register. He said the daydreaming, ugly, overweight, slovenly trolls on the payroll just retrieve the item for you and scan it with a handheld scanning gun. Ok, cool, i said. I went over to the girl. "I want to buy an ipod Classic." She saw my lips moving at her but she did not want to disengage her senses from whatever she was listening to so she just sort of smiled and hoped that I would assume she was from another planet and could not interact with humans. You see, I actually know what employees of all stripe are thinking. I have had a lot of experience with employees, and also customers. And I am one of those people who learn from experience. So I knew what was going on with her. But I am also a chronicler of human non behavior so I wanted to
continue on with her. Bear in mind that even before we entered my techy said that the employees at this particular Apple Store were astoundingly more zombified than the ones at other Apple Stores. He was right! So I said again, "Can I buy an ipod?" Having her Complete Number I was now merely pursuing an experiment at this point. I knew clearly that she would not be of any help to me whatsoever. But I wanted to have something to write about. Writing for me is a lot easier when I am simply reporting and passing judgement than when I am making something up whole cloth. WHICH I OFTEN DO! I am a cult-followed fiction writer, you see. I write fiction designed to amuse felon biker white people. So I said "Can I buy an ipod?" She finally made eye contact and said "Yes." I said "Thanks. Can I buy one from you?" After a long time, when I guess Heepo and the Penis People stopped singing in her head she said "Just go to anyone of those employees over there." and she sort of gestured with her face. There were one thousand employees "over there," all of them listless and foul to look upon. I said, grinning widely "Hey, thanks!" and went over to a cylindrical stalagmite of a lad with a thick roll of fat that wobbled up and down his central core when he perambulated making him look a little like a human Slinky when he moved even slightly and asked him what I had asked his
passive Borg co-worker, and he made a throat sound that seems to have passed through some ham sandwich paste from an earlier feeding frenzy and he went and got it and did the stuff they do and handed me my purchase. I then took a one-last-look at all the employees to cement into my head the reality of them and then left. And came home and installed it all here. For you to read. And maybe read carefully enough to avoid going to the Apple Store in Pasadena if you want to make a purchase but to certainly visit if you want to see some really caustically dull employee types and look at light reflections in all the Mac screens.