"a strange fellow here" pt. 2 troilus and cressida: iii, iii

On Friday V. asked me if I could take care of going down to the Apple store near us and picking up the new OS, Leopard, for our computers. No problem. It's a little bit of a big deal, I thought, so I'll get there a touch before it becomes available at six, like at 5:45.

So I arrive at 5:45 to find a line of people that is no joke like 200 people long. At first I thought it was only 50 people long until I looked a little more carefully to see that it had wound its way around a mall kiosk selling Dead Sea Salt beauty products (their employees' sales tactic seems to be to wait until a girl walks by and then timidly approach her, saying "Can I ask you a question?" I've never found out what the question they want to ask is because I usually say something like "oh, no, sorry, I'm in a big hurry," even if I'm walking at a snail's pace).

But I digress. So I join this line and stand there for a few minutes. The dude in front of me turns around and looks at me a couple times and gives me a little smile; I respond with a polite tight-lipped smile of my own. Finally, he addresses me.

"Here to buy the new OS?"

I look at him for a moment to see if he's for real. I am, after all, standing in a line fully 200 fricking people long, a line of people who are ostensibly all here for the same, single purpose of purchasing the new OS.

"Well, yeah. I mean, I'm standing in line," I say, finally.

He nods. Then a moment of silence, and then it suddenly strikes me to return the question. "Are you?"

"No," he says, matter-of-factly. "I'm gonna check it out, but I'm not going to buy it tonight."

I look at him for a moment in bewilderment.

"I'm just here for the experience," he explains.

Right, of course. The experience of standing in a line of 200 people for 45 minutes on a Friday night. What else is there to do?

"fair flower, untimely pluck'd" various poetry: x

There are some beautiful flowering trees around the place where I work, and they are in full bloom right now.




Imagine my dismay that when I arrived this morning to work, I saw a crew of landscapers taking a chainsaw to several of these trees, cutting them down a branch at a time, then going right for the trunks. The pink petals were all around us in the air, churned up by the vibrations of the saw. If it had been two days from now, these would have been green trees, and while I hate watching trees being cut down, it wouldn't have been as heart-wrenching as this was, watching these beautiful pink branches at the height of their bloom being chopped down like they were nothing.

Put me in a rotten mood, I can tell you.

On the bright side, I got new glasses this week, and they are wicked cool.