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The iPhone Factor: At the 10 Year
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This is a continuation in my social experiment to see if I can get women based solely on owning an iPhone.

Date: November 24, 2007
Place: The Beach Café, Fairfield, CT
Crowd: The Fairfield High School Class of ‘97
Cologne: None
Confidence: Low
Employment Status: Newly employed

Everyone wants to be the most important person at their 10 year high-school reunion. This is hard when you’ve gone to school with a professional athlete, a famous actor, and a famous musician. So when I decided to attend my 10 year, I was aiming for a position in the top 25. I figured the magical device capable of vaulting me into that lofty position was my trusty iPhone. I wanted to prove that I was no longer that awkward skinny kid, playing the French Horn and attending Phish concerts every weekend. All the girls who shunned me and/or threw gum in my hair would fawn over my piece of telecommunication majesty.

Attempting to catch their breath as they watch me surf the internet and Google map their backyards, they’d secretly hope to catch a glimpse of my phone number for some late-night downloading action. This was going to work.

My first mistake was the car. Nothing says, “awesome” more than showing up in your mom’s Acura. (No, she wasn’t driving.) I tried to park far away from the venue in the hope that no one would see me pull in. Unfortunately, David (not married, may have served time for statutory rape in college) pulled in next to me.

“Wow man, nice car. Did your Grandmother die and leave it to you?” He yelled through, what I can only assume, were corn kernels or teeth yellowed by years of smoking.

“Ha. Yeah, that’s funny man. Good to see you’ve still got your sense of humor.” I laughed back, concentrating on the iPhone sitting snuggly in my coat pocket. He’d be sorry. They’d all be sorry.

Making my way in, I stood in line having a deep conversation with someone (married, no kids) whose name I didn’t and can’t remember. He was very passionate about his job, and I stood there nodding at appropriate times. His job would mean nothing once I showed him my iPhone. He’d wonder what sort of fantastic job I had that could afford me such a high-priced item. And I figured it out. I was going to lie. Tonight, I was a pediatric cardiologist.

Advertising is a great profession. It’s creative, it’s fun, and hopefully we make people laugh once in a while. But when it comes down to it, we’re pulling the wool over people’s eyes and selling them things they only THINK they need. We aren’t saving the world. A pediatric cardiologist is amazing. Not only would I be a doctor, but I’d fix babies’ hearts. Luckily, most of my friends in college are now doctors and gave me some buzz words to get me through the night.

I made the mistake of making eye-contact with Brian (married, 1 child). Brian is boisterous, and generally happy; but almost too happy. Plus, he likes to put his arm around people when talking to them. This is a bad combination. He walked toward me, and as I looked around for a diversion, I noticed him pull something out of his pocket. It was slim, glossy, and fit snuggly in his hand.

“You’ve got to check this shit out. You’ll be blown away.” Brian’s breath was worse than I’d remembered. His greasy hands were fondling HIS iPhone, and I stared in disbelief as he showed me Chocolate Rain on YouTube.

“I know right? Fucking awesome! You need to get one of these. It’ll change your life.” He said, currently flipping through the different applications. Including, and this is not made up, photos of what appeared to be him and his large wife in, what I can only hope, were naked yoga positions.

Had Brian achieved a station in life that made him financially capable of owning an iPhone? Had he stole it? If he owned one, what did this say about me? I walked away from him, confused and shamed at my own defeat.

The night went on. My pediatric cardiologist bit didn’t hold up. And as I walked slowly to my (mom’s) car, I heard Erin’s (unmarried, still hot) voice behind me.

“So, were you going to let another 10 years go by without saying hi to me?” She said, shrugging her shoulders and seductively biting her lower lip. Erin had been the friend I never had the courage to ask out. We’d lost track over the years, and yet I was still convinced she was “the one”.

We chatted, we laughed, and when she said, “Let me give you my number,” my eyes lit up. Slowly pulling out my iPhone, I noticed a smile form on her face with the recognition.

“Wow, you have an iPhone? That’s hot.”
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2 Comments

There's a book deal in this story, I can feel it.

said Scaramouch on January 28, 2008 10:40 AM.

You should submit that to Apple for the next ad... That's your job, right? :)

said Smaz on January 28, 2008 11:18 AM.
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