An Open Letter to an Apple Store Supervisor
Dear Miss,
I’m not going to say your name or what store you work in (even though I remember it, and even though you deserve it) because even when someone’s being an asshole, I’m still not rude to them. Take notes.
You’re a supervisor at the Apple store, and I met you because I was trying to pay you to replace the back of my iPhone. I dropped it on the pavement and it cracked. You told me you couldn’t do it because if you work on my phone you must give it back to me in a “warranty-able state,” and the tiny crack on the front (a crack caused by me, not you) voids the warranty.
I said “I don’t care. Just void the warranty, then.”
You looked at me with the empty smile and blank eyes of an idiot, because if it looks like a duck…
So I persisted, “You’re refusing to repair my phone, and telling me my only option is to replace the whole thing?”
“Yes,” you said.
“Okay, then never mind.”
Pay attention to this part because it actually happened and you were dumb enough to do it so you may be dumb enough to have forgotten, you said “Okay,” and walked away from me.
It’s not your fault Apple has a ridiculous policy that dictates the physical condition my phone is allowed to be in. And I resent my desire to write this because I don’t believe customers necessarily deserve to be treated as if they’re special and I certainly don’t believe “the customer is always right.” What is your fault, however, is that you treated me like I demanded you fix my phone for free.
I mean, doesn’t it feel weird and sort of counterintuitive to enforce a policy that makes you no money instead of some money? I know you were doing your job, but doesn’t it make you feel stupid? What if all you wanted to do was give someone $30 to unscrew two screws and slip a piece of plastic into the back of your phone, but you keep being told it’s too much of a risk for a company with more cash on hand than the United States government? I mean, your employee who spoke to me first at least apologized about it. Your presence only became necessary (Note: I did not ask to speak to you, so when I say you became necessary, I’m speaking on behalf of your employee who had the humanity to acknowledge this whole thing was dumb) when I became agitated that I had now driven the 25 minutes to your store two times to be told two different – yet nevertheless prohibitive – stories about why my phone must remain broken.
I suppose you’ve developed a thick skin and lack of sympathy from working in a place that sells expensive things to people who expect to be treated like royalty when something goes wrong with them. And I’m sure a big part of your job is making sure people don’t get free stuff because they scared an employee by throwing a fit. But listen to me: if you had acted like a person instead of a robot, you wouldn’t have overheard me calling you a “fucking asshole,” and I wouldn’t be writing this.
Sincerely,
Logan Galla
Everybody in the world knows who the Eames’s are so I’ll spare you the history lesson and just say: they made really cool furniture. The thing that made their iullustrious career possible was a government contract to make leg splints using a machine Charles had built that could bend plywood in two directions at once.