So before I left LA, I bought a new iPad.
Please note the words, “I bought”.
Yes, Bazza, Rodi and David were all too tight to give me one.
Pricks.
Anyway … one thing I found interesting about shopping at Apple in LA was that the people who worked were quite different to those I found in other markets like Shanghai or Singapore.
Sure, they were as knowledgable and – generally – as polite and [semi] helpful as their continental cousins, but they were all a bit Stepford Wives … that is if Stepford Wives looked like LA Hipsters rather than Virginia housewives.
But there was an exception, this guy.
Yes, that really is a genuine Apple staff member.
Now maybe he’s wearing pajama trousers and a cycle helmet because he woke up late for work and had to rush on his fixie [it’s almost certain he has a fixie] to get to Manhattan Beach on time.
Or maybe he’s fell off his bike a week ago, bumped his head and was rushed to hospital so now he is better prepared for either a bike accident or being put in a hospital bed.
But whatever the reason, I have to say he was a breath of fresh air to the kale-consuming Mr and Ms Perfect’s in the store and I was kinda disappointed he didn’t serve me.
Or I was until I saw he was wearing a ‘please notice me’ red iWatch strap, had tattoos and walked around the store like he was Mick Jagger on stage and then realised he wasn’t a victim of circumstance, but one of those people you meet all the time in LA … a ‘slash’ person.
Waitress/Model.
Barman/Actor.
Apple Retail Store Representative/Rockstar.