My Apple Doesn't Lie
If you use Apple software you have to agree to their terms. If you don’t agree you don’t use the software. Which means you use a PC. Or you built your own computer, we’ve all heard the stories. I always wondered why Apple seemed so unconcerned about people walking in off the street to have them work on what could be another person’s computer for free. And also who was the genius who placed the camera staring at you there. The one that I know people can hack, and then watch me squinting my eyes, furrowing my brow, and writing in my jammies.
Geeks and nerds are the perfect candidates for a FBI task force, if you watch certain TV shows, that becomes clear. So when you’re on hold and someone at Apple greets you with a cheerful for one second, and then on to business tone, in my case I suddenly feel dumb. If I am calling her to ask her questions I am obviously not as smart as her. Therefore I must act less smart and punctuate my language to show her. But when she says, “Ok, now hold down the power button, command, control, and shift keys.” There is a moment of tension. Will I be able to hold down four keys at the SAME TIME? But I do it and the moment passes.
How do I feel about technology? I like it. I don’t need to return to the days when white out was a staple. haha when white out was a staple. Office humor. I could meet you at the next office I work at. We could banter over the bic pens by the water cooler. You could buy me a Snapple from the dispenser. Man, that would be great. Yeah for like five seconds. Because after that we’d get bored. And I would have a case to work on since I’m the lead female FBI task force agent. And you would know everything about me and not want to know more. You would desire that I only talk business with you so as not to lead you on while dreaming of having sex with you. But you would desire to know anything I don’t want you to know. Which would cause your own life to be put on hold while you put mine under the magnifier. So as you can see we’re using a tried and true formula.
How do you feel about technology? Like I said I would not want to go back to the dark ages. Why don’t you write about me more? Because some people would know it’s not about them and you would feel happy and they would not - you might get hurt. But you write about some people I can tell, including me, I know you do! Fine, have it your way. Burger King.
Tell me more about myself. I want to know how you see me. And don’t lie. I can tell. She thinks to herself that he is trying to figure out how she sees him (it seems like a simple concept, but it isn’t). No, I didn’t ask you to tell me what you think. Wait, um, tell me more about myself. Yes, I asked you to tell me what you think. She watches him as though he has glitched and made a recovery. They both act as though it didn’t happen. Perhaps they’re sitting under umbrellas at a restaurant by the beach. And it’s sunny and the sun has caught his blonde hair. So they act as though it didn’t happen.
Perhaps the woman has very dark hair. Which is glossy and smooth. And he seems to take pleasure in it as though he ironed it himself. But again he’s missing something or several things. She pauses for a moment in the time it would take you to read that last portion. So we come back at the same time. Only now I’m continuing to narrate, so she’s on hold. Then she speaks after waiting for his thoughts to clear a little, as a gesture of respect for his well being. Since her words are so powerful. If they are powerful she shouldn’t know. She should only know he hates them and wishes they would go away. It’s like a child with a sharp tongue. You want to make it stop. But you keep going back again and again and you don’t know why.
“I see your quest as ill-fated and you don’t want to give it up. I don’t understand why.”
This isn’t what he was expecting and he doesn’t like it.
“My quest?” He sneers. He wants to swear at her, but he tones it down for the others. “I’m not a knight.” Then something inside him softens. “Not even in tarnished armor.”
She sits and quietly watches him. She is one of the only ones who is allowed to see his dark side. He is afraid to show it for fear of hurting people. He has a cold dry intensity that leaves her parched in a way that angers him. But she says none of this. “There must be a good reason you don’t give up in the face of adversity. I would like to find out why. From what I know from watching you without other sources skewing my point of view I know I like you.”
Whenever he asks her what she really thinks he really only wants to hear a little. He always builds it up as though this time she’ll let him have it. He acts as though it’s something he really wants, but they both know he doesn’t. So that’s all she says. And in reality he would want her to say “I love you.” and mean it.
How do I feel about technology? I like it. My story hasn’t changed. Technology’s a part of how I got here today. It has a place. Whether or not I know what holding those four keys down does and whether or not it seems like I know is irrelevant. Maybe not to you, but to me it is. What’s relevant to me is that I do my dishes before I feel creeped out and I water the tree and the plants. And I don’t come here to write out of much, other than curiosity. “She’s a real phony. She honestly believes all the phony shit she believes in.” Somehow old O.J. Berman got it right. Yes, I honestly believe that you may be singing service agreements from Apple you don’t understand. Because you would like to continue to use your computer. I believe that my camera on my computer can be hacked because I’ve been told so and sometimes I can feel people watching me. a real phony is different than just a phony.
What I believe less is my conversation with the blonde man with the blue eyes. That doesn’t seem real. It seems like a memory from a different life. In this life we’re friends and we have a higher purpose and we don’t have to feel afraid of each other. In this life you don’t see me for all the masks I can wear, rather you see me for who I am. And vice versa. I like you.