Christopher King is a third-year political science student and the Charlatan’s photo assistant. He thinks the Phone is a ripoff because the standard applications cost extra ( Photo rRovided )
Last week Fido called me asking if I’d like to renew my cellphone contract and purchase the iPhone. I confirmed that I didn’t need to buy a data plan since the cheapest plans start at $25. After three days I received my iPhone and the joys of new technology were showered on me . . . right.
One must remember this is not just a phone, it’s “a breakthrough” and “revolutionary.”
So, I should be experiencing only revolutions and breakthroughs henceforth. But everything I wanted was not something that Apple decided was necessary, as revolutions and breakthroughs don’t need to meet the standard norms of the industry. In frustration, I complain to my friends that have iPods and iPhones and their responses were all: “Just get the app.”
The frustrations caused by the iPhone can only be described with this analogy:
A man walks into a new restaurant; he saw signs stating a revolutionary menu and breakthrough service would never let you feel satisfied with another restaurant. He walks in and is greeted by a server.
“Your credit card please, sir,” a staff member with title “Connoisseur” asks.
“What do you mean? I’m just browsing.”
“Yes, sir, I’m aware. But to do so, we must authorize your credit card first, even to enjoy the free bread and butter.”
“Fine,” he swipes his card and heads over to the free bread, olive oil and butter bar.
“Sir, please have a seat when you feel comfortable to look at our priced menu,” says another Connoisseur.
The menu reads: Chicken or cow?
The patron calls over the Connoisseur and says, “cow” – thinking they must have an amazing chef here and that’s all he needs to say.
The Connoisseur begins the onslaught: “Would you like organic or factory farmed?”
“Um . . . organic?”
“How would you like it killed, regular or kosher to drain the blood?”
“Well, if you put it like that, kosher.”
“All right, but you know that’s extra and we will charge your credit card, it will be a nominal fee so don’t worry. So what cut would you like?”
“Tenderloin . . . how many questions are you going to ask me?”
“Sir, this is a revolution. We have thousands of options to make your steak. Now, which marinade would you like?”
“Um, doesn’t your chef decide that?”
“Well if you can’t decide, you can shake this flavour-choosing device and it will decide for you.”
The device returns a lime and black pepper marinade. Just as that happens, the patron’s friend walks in and approaches him, surprised to see him.
“Hey buddy, what’s up? Check out this book I finished, you’d really like it.”
Promptly the Connoisseur interrupts, “Excuse me sir, sharing is not allowed. And would you please swipe your credit card at the front. Restaurant policy.”
“Why can’t I give him this book? We’re in a public space.”
“Yes, we are aware. But we don’t allow sharing of public items, it’s not in our corporate culture.”
The patron with an irritated tone tells the Connoisseur that he would like his steak, and in anticipation of the final question he says he would like it rare, and taps his credit card indicating that he doesn’t need to be informed about an extra fee if applicable.
A grimace forms on the Connoisseur’s face. “Sir, we have the hardware to provide a high flame to give you a rare steak. But we are waiting for the latest parts to update to use that feature.”
In frustration, the patron waives the Connoisseur and says bye to his friend.
Minutes later his steak arrives and is placed at the other end of the table. Realizing he is sitting at the wrong end of the table, he tries to get up to change his orientation. The chair is bolted to the ground, and so is the table. His glass is out of reach and the black pepper on the steak is burning his tongue.
A grimace forms across the Connoisseur’s face as he notices the patron’s frustration.
The iPhone: “Thousands of apps. Thousands of reasons to love your iPhone.”
Thousands of things needed to make it enjoyable.