Starbucks & Apple - the Epitome of... of... of... of...

I'm not a great fan of Starbucks. I think their coffee sucks. Their beans are burnt to crap and that's why you need 14 gallons of sugar to make one cup palatable. WTF do I know? I lived in Colombia where coffee tastes of chocolate, fresh and freshly brewed every morning by maids. Since then, I've become a coffee elitist bitch and rarely is my cultivated palate satisfied.

Anyhow, I ended up 80 miles from home because I had to be aurally tested again. Just love how my neurological deafness makes people scratch their heads. In the pouring rain, I drove nearly 2 hours, petrified that a sudden strange sound would scare me to drive into on-coming traffic. In a puddle, I arrived at the doctor's office.

While seated in the waiting room, the doctor shouted my name. I ignored him. He repeated it more softly. Then I smiled. In the examination room, he screamed, "YOU GOT A HEARING PROBLEM?"

Once again, I ignored him. Evidently, he didn't understand 'hyperacusis.' His nurse came in and he left. I never saw him again. Then, in two shakes of an ox's tail, I met with the audiologist. After I made sure she understood my symptoms, I allowed her to test me.

When she gave me words to repeat, I begged her, "Please give me different words for the other ear. I've an eidetic memory and I'll repeat the same words with just a hint of the first letter." I wanted accuracy. My other audiologist knew of that stunt because I pulled it more than once, throwing all my test results off balance. This one ignored my request.

"How'd I do?" I asked the audiologist.

"You weren't kidding about your hearing loss," she responded.

"Wait," I said, "you didn't test me for hyperacusis."

She gazed at me with that look akin to pity. "Do you really want me to blast your eardrums?"

I laughed. "Yeah, my other audiologist has to pry me outta the ceiling."

Still, when I realized the entire meeting lasted 18 minutes for a 3-4 hour car drive, let's say, I was fit to be tied.

The journey did not go to nought, however. The doctor was a few miles shy of... an APPLE store.

Having known about this appointment in advance, I made one in advance with my best friends, APPLE! I blogged a few times earlier about my adventures with my lemon. This time, the third time, the battery only lasts an hour at a time, a new glitch since they repaired the keyboard and trackpad that Apple repair broke during the installation of a new hard drive because the original one was defective. Whew.

At any rate, Apple couldn't help any more with home delivery and told me I had to go to any Apple store where they would replace the battery right there in front of my eyes!

I got there an hour earlier than scheduled. One of my problems with this weird neurological deafness is that I'm hypersensitive to all sound. The worst perpetrators of sound are the Apple stores. Somehow, the acoustics in all their stores (I've been in 8 prior to my deafness) is mind-numbing and it's always loud in there.

Within seconds, I reacted as predicted: my head clogged up with sound. Too late, I shoved two ear plugs that resemble antennae into my ears. Shrieking, I asked the guy, "I'm an hour early for my appointment at the genius bar. Is it possible to get bumped up? As you can tell, I'm deaf and can't tolerate sound."

"Let me call my supervisor," he said. I looked around. The place was fucking EMPTY!

The supervisor, a weird looking dude with long, white hair and grizzly face, smugly strolled out. "No can do."

I shrieked, "There's no way you can accommodate me? I'm disabled and would really appreciate it."

He smirked. "Come back in an hour."

The fucker really jerked off to that. I asked the same question several different ways. He refused to budge. I mean, the place was FUCKING EMPTY!

Fuming, I first went to Macy's. For some strange reason, the sound in Macy's doesn't bother me. Only, this time, I couldn't appreciate it as I suffered from reacting to the sound system in Apple, deafening me for the most part from hearing what people have to say while turning the volume up sky high with the sounds going on in my head. Good times, all right. The sales clerk at Macy's was wonderfully accommodating and I returned and exchanged stuff with no hassle. That left me 30 minutes.

I went to Barnes and Nobles to their Starbucks. I had my damaged Macbook Air with me and wanted to catch up on my emails the remaining 25 minutes. I ordered a small mocha coffee and an inedible quiche that was nuked to rubbery.

The kid behind the counter, a tall, Neanderthal brute treated me as if I was mildly retarded. Yes, I'm very loud and my speech is off, but I'm wearing a gorgeous tailor-made summer suit, bejeweled and bedecked. I look hot. He had to repeat himself a few times because I said my standard, "I'm deaf."

I paid, sat down and ate the rubbery piece of shit and drank the tepid burnt shit while I turned on my broken 11" Macbook Air shit. American technology and innovation at its peak. While scanning my emails, my peripheral vision caught sudden movement that stopped at my side. I looked up and noticed the Neanderthal's lips moving.

"I'm sorry," I politely said, "I'm deaf. Can you repeat that?"


The cafe was packed and every person craned their heads to look at me.

I looked at the table where I sat cluttered with burnt and broken shit to see the only unbroken stuff: my mountain biking water bottle filled with swill I made from home that contained lake water and vitamins. You gotta be shitting me - this is an excuse to try to humiliate me publicly?

I shouted back, "What's YOUR problem? I bought coffee and quiche which I'm trying to eat now."

He yelled, "It's store policy!"

I shrieked, "You're bothering a deaf person for that? Then, throw me out!"

Disgusted, I threw away the Starbucks shit and walked back to experience the Apple Store and the shit I expected to encounter there. Apple never disappoints.

Within seconds, the long-haired old guy with white hair who looks like he inhaled 200 lbs of good dubie, Erik is his name, strolled out again and snickered while adjusting his dick. The fucker won the game - he got to humble a disabled woman and made her suffer for an hour. That's the power that Apple wields over common folk!

I stuck my face in his and said, "It's not like I have a choice in being deaf." While walking away, I realized he would never get the sub-context: Erik made his choice about being an asshole and treating the disabled like shit.

The Genius bar woman popped out and we walked out of the store and sat in the mall corridor on a bench. I explained the story about what happened with my Macbook Air.

"As you can see, I treat it like gold," I told her.

She agreed. "It's immaculate and looks brand new."

"Well, let me show you all the dings since you guys have had it," and I showed her all the indents and smashed corners and the inside where the rubber was coming out of the top.

She said in a disparaging tone, "We'd have to replace every piece which is costly." I knew she was inflexible. To shut me up, she added, "I'm taking note to make sure it won't be destroyed anymore."

Then she brought it with her to the genius bar for diagnostics. When she returned, she said, "Oh, according to diagnostics, your battery's at that halfway mark so we'll just change it."

"Halfway?" I said, dubious. I guess they didn't want to let me know that once again something broke with my Macbook Air. Because halfway means at least 4 hours battery usage before recharging. If I made it within one hour, I was doing well.

She hesitated. "Well, we got a situation and we've two choices how to go about it." I nodded, urging her to continue. "We don't have any batteries here."

I felt my blood pressure rise. I was ASSURED IN WRITING by Apple that I could go to ANY APPLE STORE AND GET MY BATTERY CHANGED RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME. You'd think a few days' advanced notice was ample warning? How about the description I appended to the appointment: Change Battery to my 11" Macbook Air. Guess I wasn't specific enough!

She continued, "You could return next week-"

"No can do," I said, taking a page from Erik.

"Well, you can leave your Macbook Air here and we'll ship it to you when we get the battery some time next week."

I handed it over. At this stage, half of the Apple staff must've read all my upcoming ebooks as well as my articles. They had access to my computer more than I had over the past two months.

I left shortly thereafter and drove for nearly two hours to go home. Exhausted, like the walking dead, I passed out within minutes of arriving.

What a truly sucky day. Thanks to Apple and Starbucks for making it really memorable.

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This blog and all its posts are a work of fiction. Names, character, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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