I've always liked Apple products-because they look shiny and cool and in my industry, they earn you a small amount of techno-geek cred. Mostly I like 'em because they are shiny and cool. I remember reading about the first iPods in Wired in, I think, 2001, and asking my dad for one for Christmas. He looked into it; it was $800. Yeah. Anyways, now that I'm a grown-up, I can have not only one but TWO iPods. And a MacBook. Ah, beloved white shiny MacBook. If I could carry you around like a purse, I would. There are two things that accompany me in my travels around the world, two things I would pull out of a burning house: Currie Cat, and MacBook.
You can imagine my distress when my MacBook appeared to contract swine flu last week. I was installing some software updates, and for some reason MacBook hiccuped halfway through the process, and from that point on, I couldn't log into the computer. I panicked; of course I hadn't backed up anything in a very long time, and was desperate not to lose all my music, photos, and writing projects. Yes, I have a work laptop, but it's a Dell. 'Nuff said.
I spent most of Saturday on the phone with Apple's UK (read: Mumbai) helpline, where I was helpfully assisted by Kiran, Ranjit and Adnan, respectively. Kiran helped, but then gave me a reference number and told me to call back if the process he had me undertake didn't work. It didn't. Onto Ranjit, who spent more time putting me on hold in order to speak to his superior than actually speaking to me. Finally, around 5:30 p.m., I got Adnan. Adnan made many sympathetic clucking noises as I tried to express to him how much I loved MacBook, how it was a part of my family. We bonded. Adnan won my trust. He had me start another utility, which he said would take about 20 minutes.
There was an awkward silence on the other end of the phone as I started the utility. I sensed Adnan hesitating. "Adnan," I said. "What is it? What's wrong? Just tell me straight out."
"Well ma'am," he said. "It's just that, our centre closes at 6 p.m. And the queue ends at 5:45. So...if this process does not work, I'm afraid I won't be able to help, ma'am. You'll have to do a system restore and lose all your information, ma'am. And this would be so, so bad. I would feel so so sorry if that happened."
I sighed heavily, trying to think of what to say next, formulating some snarky remark about AppleCare really being AppleDon'tCare. How could I go another day without MacBook?! Adnan interjected though:
"But I am really hoping this will work for you ma'am. I am really going to pray for you. I am really really praying that this is going to work and your MacBook will be fine. I really pray for this."
Well.
How could I be snarky when the guy was praying for me?!
"Uh, thanks Adnan," I said. "Um, so, I'll just try this archive and repair, and uh..."
"Yes, yes, that's right, ma'am" Adnan assured me. "You do that, and I will pray for you that it will work."
Right.
At that, we signed off, and I started the archive and repair, and, uh, I guess Adnan prayed. Because you know what? It worked.
I told my mother this.
She thinks I should phone Adnan back and get him to pray for me on a regular basis. She's had worse ideas, I think.