Scene from the Apple store, Lincoln Road
I'm waiting for a gentle and kind man in a fauxhawk behind the Genius Bar to help me. My power cord on the Macbook fried this morning: I'm without a computer and facing a long wait at the Apple store. As usual, it's crowded with people dressed to the nines just to surf the free internet. A tiny, grey dog runs around underfoot while his owner fiddles with an ipod nano.
There's one guy ahead of me at the service counter. He's Italian, I think, handsome with ice-colored blue eyes. He's holding an iphone, one with it's guts spilling out of one side. The battery is entirely exposed. "It still works, though," the genius behind the Genius Bar says. Everyone in the immediate area looks at the guy, who is clad in a white Adidas track jacket, grey pants and pristine white flip flops. He shrugs.
My boyfriend, who is waiting impatiently with me, asks the guy what happened to the iphone. "My girlfriend threw it off the balcony," he said. "I live on the 32nd floor."
"What did you do to your girlfriend?" my boyfriend asks.
"Not what I wanted to do to her," he replied, grimly. --Tamara Lush
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