Now, I know that humans invented shit like Craig’s List for stuff like this… and I also know that’s it’s stupid to spend $2400 just because you have a 30-second crush on someone, but I had an experience today that defies the logic of both of these things.  Today after work I stopped into the Apple Store across the street from the retail store where I work to see if a Mac would be compatible with my Windows OX Treo (that I can, like, barely operate). I wandered around for a bit and was going to approach one of the guys I had seen in my store before, but…

I saw him.

A vision in a black Apple Store t-shirt… unkempt brown hair, unwashed for about 36 hours, scruff, and needy brown eyes.

“Can I help you?”

Um, yes.  You can help me by tailgating for the Phillies game on Wednesday, by cuddling and watching Star Trek: The Next Generation marathons on G4, by letting me play Halo 3 on easy without laughing (do you think he has an Xbox even though he works at the Apple Store???)… or, you could just tell me if my Treo will work with a Mac.

Apple Store Guy helped me by looking on the internet and slightly mocking my lack of technological know-how.  He asked a bunch of questions about my phone, throwing around fancy terms like “USB cord” and “shareware program.”  Psssssssssh, that is a bunch of mumbo-jumbo, I am certain.  Then he asked me why my screen was so dim (damned if I know, because it came like that?) and proceeded to pull out his iPhone with it’s super-bright screen.  This was obviously the Apple Store Guy version of “peacocking”; this should have given me the courage to give him my number, because showing off the iPhone was pretty much just like whipping out his penis and waving it in my face (Freud would soooooooo agree).  However, I just pointed out his fabulous taste in Reef sandals because we were both wearing the Sultans (hey, I work in a sporting goods store, I get paid to know this shit).  He laughed, but I groaned inwardly as my attempt to be flirty also resulted in his knowing that I can only fit my ginormous feet into man-dals.  Fuck.

We chatted some more until I saw an older couple start to approach (fucking cock block!) and he asked if I had any further questions.  I could sense the longing in his eyes, him waiting, yearning for me to have one more question about Macintosh and everything they (nee, HE!) had to offer.  And I couldn’t do it… I froze.  I said I was good, then basically turned and ran out the door, which I summarily pulled into my chest before realizing that you push the door out.  We shared one last glance and he was gone, off to help tech-savvy geriatrics talk to their grandkids in Arizona via webcam.

Clearly, I’m going in there tomorrow after work.  If anyone has some shit I can make up to ask him about Macs, please let me know.  Until then, I adore you, my raven-haired, Bassethound-eyed, probably Shins-loving, Reef-and-board-short-wearing Apple Store Guy.  If you ever need a backrub, someone to share your Wii with (the VIDEO GAME SYSTEM… Freudian slip much?) or moderately-priced sporting goods, I’m your girl…

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