Humor by John Christmann
iEmbarrassed
Let me just say right up front that I will NOT be buying an Apple iPad any time soon.
In case you didn’t hear, Steve Jobs, the founder of Apple Computer, recently introduced the new Apple iPad with great fanfare. I was initially struck by how many people were employed to explain what it does by pointing out what it doesn’t do, as if they were all playing Twenty Questions.
Let’s see. It’s bigger than a bread basket, you can read a book on it, but you can’t take pictures. It plays music, but it isn’t a phone. It is not a computer, but software applications are available that can transform it into a ping pong paddle . . . Does it start with an i?
Suddenly, this puts President Obama’s Jobs creation program in clear relief. He obviously intends to clone Steve Jobs so that thousands of sleek mystery products are introduced every month and enterprising Americans all across the country can be employed figuring out how to dress them up and use them.
But the real problem remains: How do I fit the thing in my pocket?
Don’t get me wrong. I love new tech toys just like the next person, but when it comes to personal devices my needs are pretty basic. I want something that fits in my pants pocket and doesn’t call Finland or take a picture of my car keys or play ACDC every time I bend over to tie my shoes. Something that repels lint would be nice too.
I suppose I could hang the iPad around my neck and display T-shirt apps or maybe show screen shots of well-developed abdomen. But I would rather have something that tucks discretely into my pants without the indelicate profile of say, the Apple iBulge.
But it seems the real problem with the iPad is the name. This is truly unfortunate because given that the product is the size of a small dog, it could have easily been called the iPoodle or even the iChihuahua. But instead Apple named it the iPad, which brought resounding snickers from the Twenty Question experts who claim that it sounds suspiciously like a feminine product.
And this is precisely why I won’t be buying an Apple iPad anytime soon. I am just too embarrassed.
You see, as a married man I have been duped into errands that involve the purchase of feminine products before. There is one full aisle devoted to such things in the supermarket near my house. I am afraid to enter it. It disappears into the horizon under a big sign with foreboding black letters that warn: Aisle 7. Feminine Care – Hygiene – Shampoos – Cosmetics – Male Removal Products.
Invariably, I stand with my mouth agape searching for some specific brand that is tucked into a wall of neatly arrayed packages I don’t care to know anything about. There are brightly colored cartons labeled Ultra Maxis and Super Minis and Mini Maxis and Ultra Maxi Minis with more information than I can possibly stand.
Worried that someone will ask me if I need help, I grab one of every box—thirty-six in total—and run for the checkout counter. Where I usually run into someone I know.
Let me tell you, there is nothing quite as humiliating as standing in a long line at the grocery store while holding a six-pack of beer and pushing a cart full of feminine iPads. Especially when the checkout clerk waves the box in the air and announces into the store-wide PA system: “Price check on iPads, counter two.”
And when that same checkout clerk looks at me and says, “Will that be all?” I feel like snarking back, “Gee, thanks for reminding me! I forgot all about the Cheese Doodles and the Massengill!”
Of course this reaction is silly. That is, until my wife sends me back to the store to get Cheese Doodles and Massengill.
Perhaps one day I will get used to the idea of purchasing a versatile electronic device for bionic women called an iPad—maybe when they come out with a large protective carrying sling for men called the iThong.
But when that day comes, my wife may be too embarrassed to buy one for me.
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