Sunday, July 20, 2008

707. Grumpy

I'm a gadget freak, staunch supporter of Apple, and rely on a PDA for work. OK, I also like to look cool. But I'm also proud of my individuality, and try to avoid doing something that a million other people are doing at the same time.

So I waited a whole week before giving in to my desire for an iPhone. I also felt a little guilty because I love my Treo, which completely changed my work life. No more rushing back to my desk to answer email, or even plunking down a dollar for the latest newspaper. I also relished leaving it behind on Shabbat, and feeling completely cut off from the world.

But in every life there's a time for change, and this morning was to be my iPhone moment. I checked the website; red squares almost everywhere except my favorite store, 5th and 59th. I ambled over at 7:30AM, certain that few other crazy New Yorkers would sacrifice their Sunday mornings for a phone. I was wrong. They were already sold out, which made sense once I learned from a creepily perky Genius in an official 3G T-shirt that shipments arrive Monday through Friday, so of course none would be left by the end of the weekend.

Still, despite oppressive, humid heat, I had a nice morning walk alongside the southern edge of Central Park. I love New York even though all my favorite diners have closed and the nearest place for scrambled eggs was 15 blocks away, and once there I bumped into crowds just emerging, blinking in the sunlight, from the 6AM showing of THE DARK KNIGHT. I guess they're no crazier than I. I love New York despite loud, unfashionably-clad tourists on the subway at the crack of dawn, all wide-eyed and trying to re-fold their big, glossy maps. I really have no beef with you--you can wear whatever you want, I apologize for my rudeness--and am grateful for your boost to the city's economy. But attempting to keep your balance in a moving train without holding on to a pole is neither clever nor cute, although you think it is, and you will probably end up falling on my head. I value my head. Nor is staring at fellow riders, having conversations at a volume that can be heard back in your native country, or standing in the middle of the platform and blocking my egress so you can take a photo of your kids smiling in front of dirty tracks. I'm not a curmudgeon, but I want New York City all to myself at 7:30 AM--especially if I've just learned I can't scratch my itch and won't get an iPhone until tomorrow at the crack of dawn. Maybe.

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