The desire became overwhelming around 1 o'clock yesterday afternoon.
So, with a call to the Apple Store and a confirmation of untold [Literally. The employees can tell you if they have stock or not, but are forbidden to say how many. – Ed.] 8 Gig versions in stock, I convinced Holly that the future of our freshly hatched marriage depended on my acquisition of an iPhone. At three, we made an early Holiday exit and raced like a restroom out of order for the Galleria.
Once there, we tore into the mall and first made a beeline for the ground floor Cingular (the Galleria store has not had its at&t makeover yet). I popped my head in, "Any iPhones?" The three employees sitting around all just shook their heads silently and pointed up. To the Apple Store, Holly!
An interminable escalator ride up behind three large Red Bird Fever carriers, and a power walk halfway down the mall later, the glowing beacon of the faithful was before us...
A throng encircled the central bar peering over the shoulders of those tapping away on the ten or so iPhones tethered to it. Defeated, I thought, "There's no way I'm getting one." However, defeat was mercifully brief. Cloud (he goes by his last name; his first? Chris.) drifted over and asked if he could help with anything. I think I managed to get out, "Eight gig i Phone?" His answer? "Sure." [It took everything I had not to make a 'silver lining' crack just then. – Ed.] He went in back and came back with a ridiculously small black box. But, before handing it over, he turned to Holly and asked, grinning, "Do you support this purchase?"
And, with her blessing out of the way, bing-bang-boom – Holly's an iWidow for the rest of the weekend.
Oh, here's my review: Apple overpromised and overdelivered – it's much cooler than the hype.
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