Gadget Lust

September, 2007.

I can feel her in my hands still. How she rested so gentle. Idling, fondling my clammy hand, loving me. It was Gregg’s fault, Gregg with the Apple store name badge and the Apple Store shirt and the Apple Store Standard Issue ( I suspect) spectacles. He looked me in the eye all slutty and solicitous:

“You wanna play with her?”

You filthy bitch.

I squealed like a little girl, something my girlfriend insists that I really need to stop doing.

I held her. She felt so good. She was perfect. The perfect weight, the perfect complexion. Everything about her was sexy. And she acted like she loved to be touched, she danced at the touch of my fingertips, she smiled and winked and stole my heart with her charm.

And then I had to give her back. Give her back to Gregg.

That bastard.

“We can put you on the waiting list if you want.” Gregg says smiling at me, flashing his Apple Store teeth. Knowing what he’s saying, knowing what being on the waiting list means, that bastard knowing that I’ll wait another month before a shipment comes in to Australia, only to be sold out within a day again and then the wait starts all over again for the next shipment. All that time until I can see her again, until I can hold her in my hands, feel her in my grasp all smooth and delicious. Waiting. Thinking of her and no having her. The waiting would kill me. I know it would. For one brief moment I consider grabbing her and running. The two of us disappearing with nothing but each other, a forbidden partnership.

Bu I know his plan is flawed. Oh, she’d come with me of course, that’s in her nature. And she’d look at me like I’d done the right thing by kidnapping her from her Apple Store prison. But it couldn’t work. I’d never get that far. Maybe to the car park, maybe all the way home. But we’d be found. We’d be pried apart, and she’d be taken away from me.

I couldn’t bear to lose her like that, not after I’d held her as my own.

And the stupid bloody waiting list is not an option either. There’s no way I could spend all that time yearning.

So No. No Gregg. Don’t put my name on your goddamned Apple Store waiting list. Don’t bother.

That’s how I ended up here. In the Apple Store. In Singapore.

A simple five hour flight, a short metro trip to Orchard Road and here I am at Epicentre @ Orchard, the licensed Reseller here in balmy Singapore. Where their stocks are filled and there’s no goddamned waiting list.

So here I am holding her again. The iPod Touch, nestled neatly in the palm of my hand. I’d believe it was all too much trouble if only she didn’t feel so good. And she does. Everything about her. The way she looks, her brains. She’s amazing and she’s beautiful and there’s no one out there who even comes close to her.

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