So, for the first time in my life Apple fucked me over.
But that’s not the interesting part.
I updated the software on my iPhone last week. I had waited a little while before installing iOS5 to make sure that all the kinks had been worked out of the system. I didn’t want to be hit by any weird glitches that hadn’t been discovered yet. Turns out I didn’t wait long enough because after the update all my phone numbers and contact information disappeared. But that’s not the interesting part.
I’m deathly afraid of losing backup material so I figured the safest way to dig out my contact information would be to take my problem to an expert. I made an appointment at the Genius Bar of my local Apple store. Getting there at the crack of 10:45 the place was already packed. It’s about 15 minutes after my scheduled appointment before I get to see someone. In no way does this annoy me. I have a hand-me-down phone more than a year out of warranty and yet I’m still getting free tech support no questions asked. I’m always amazed at how well Apple handles customer care.
The kid assigned to my problem is way enthusiastic about helping me. When he interrupts or talks over me I don’t see it as rude. It’s just his enthusiasm. I explain what happened with my phone numbers and he says he’s heard about that. Online I’ve read about other people having the same problem and there were steps they had taken to varying degrees of success. But as I explain to the Genius assigned to me, I didn’t want to do anything that might possibly corrupt the back up on my computer.
When I first brought my current iPhone home I impregnated it with all my contacts and old iPhone information. So obviously at some point a usable full backup did exist on my computer. I drove out to the mall at that ungodly hour for one reason and one reason only, so that I wouldn’t make a mistake and corrupt the backup I had. The kid understands this and says not to worry. Apple stores the last 5 backups made by iTunes, so it’s not going to be a problem. If fact before we do anything we’re going to make another backup of the phone’s current state so that we have that in case anything weird should happen. Then we’ll restore the phone from the older backup. This scares me a little but clearly it is an irrational fear because this kid is leaking confidence from every orifice. Anyway Apple has certified him as an uncontested Genius which I imagine they wouldn’t do for just anyone.
He explains that a lot of people don’t back up properly. When you want to make a full backup you have to do this! And then he hits a bunch of tabs that I’m not really paying attention to. While my Apple authorized backup is occurring my Genius runs about to work on some other people. When the backup is finally done he comes back and starts the restoration process. It is at this point that his mood changes. I sense the overflowing confidence draining and a mild confusion filling the void.
Huh, well, uh, I can only find one backup on this computer.
My old backup?
No, the one we just made.
What?!
He then surmises that PCs must store the backups differently than Macs and suggests that maybe I should go to Best Buy. It’s possible the Geek Squad might know how to recover the backup that it looks like he just overwrote.
Now I won’t spend too much time going over it here, but for various reasons this enrages me.
The moment I met my Genius I was very clear on why I was there. It wasn’t some secret desire that I was afraid to tell anyone. It wasn’t I really like Peggy Sue and would love it if she were to hold my hand but I’m too shy to say it. No, I explained very clearly why I was there. I wanted to get my contacts back but above all I wanted to NOT corrupt whatever old backup I had on my computer. So in a way my real overarching request of Kid Genius wasn’t even an action. It was an inaction. It was for him to NOT do something, which generally is quite easier than actually doing something.
I suppose there are things that it would be difficult to not do. If I had asked him to not blink for the next hour then I can understand that that would be an obnoxious request. But that was not the kind of NOT request that I was making. What I asked was the equivalent of asking someone to not hit me in the face. “Hey, if it’s not too much trouble could you not punch me in the face? I just got a nose job and I’m still a little tender, could you do me this one solid and simply not hit me in the face?”
So of course what is the very first thing that Kid Genius does? He pops me in the nose. But that’s not the interesting part.
Long story short, Kid Genius, his manager, and I all have a little discussion with the final outcome being nothing more than a simply apology for my losses and an offer of a free iPhone case as compensation. Sensing my mood the manager is not surprised when I decline the blood money plastic phone protector and he quickly leaves.
Kid Genius apologizes once again and even after seeing me turn down the iPhone case he still tries to push a free screen protector on me. If I was a nicer person I would have accepted it, but I have my limits. And then, almost 3 hours after my appointment was supposed to start, he gives me his card. This I respect. I don’t know if this is a sign of great bravery or if it is actually possible that he somehow does not understand the level of my rage at this moment but whatever his motivation might have been I respect the gesture enough that I wait until I’m walking out of the store and out of his sight before balling his card up in an angry fist.
And it is shortly after this that the interesting thing finally happens.
I go home and the very first thing I do is I sit down and write for over an hour. And what do I write? Months later, am I finally replying to the email I got from one of my oldest high school friends? Or am I sitting down to acknowledge the handwritten letter I just got through the mail? Is it a personal diary entry? Am I actually writing the first blog entry I’ve done in a year? No. What actually snaps me out of my body-at-rest lack of inertia, what finally opens Microsoft Word on my laptop is an 1800 word pissy letter I’m going to send Apple.
Who am I sending this angry letter off to? I have no idea. I’m sure I can find someone later. Why am I writing this letter? I have no idea. There is nothing that the letter will fix. Apple assured me that my contacts were lost. The letter is just a rant about what happened. I don’t think I would even sign my name since the integrity of the letter might be compromised if I were sent a $20 iTunes gift card
Like one of the zombies in 28 days later the only thing I care about is infecting someone else with the rage I feel. In the hope of communicating the hatred inside I need to chase someone down and rip their cheek off with my teeth (in an epistolary manner).
Do you have any idea how little I’ve written in the last year? I have desire to write. But I never have the inertia busting motivation. And then a few days ago I finally found it, the spark I needed to rocket me off my ass and onto the keyboard. Turns out that the thing that was missing in my life, it was irrational hatred. Who knew?
I’m pretty certain that I have never been so moved by an act of generosity or laudable grace that I have actually written to a corporation about it. I’ve thought about it. I’ve made the decision to write such a letter. But I don’t remember following through on it.
Christi on the other hand, she does that sometimes. A while back I was at an airport with her. There was an out-of-line passenger berating an employee at the gate. The employee handled the problem passenger with such impressive calm that Christi actually wrote the airline to tell them how good their employee was. So I guess there are some people who can find actionable motivation in a positive encounter. I have seen Christi driven to write letters that congratulate the good people do.
But I think she might be the exception.
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