I went to the Apple Store during lunch today and purchased a fancy sports case for my iPod. After weeks of working out without my iPod--the cacophony of gym-sounds providing a displeasing soundtrack to my evenings--I was ready to finally lose myself to my music of choice. Who did I feel like listening to today? Norah Jones? Van Morrison? Coldplay? Eminem? Kanye West? It didn't matter; they'd all do, really. And the power to control them with the click of the wheel was now back at my fingertips. I couldn't help but grin a little at the schmuck of a Pakistani airport employee who was trying to figure out how the hell to listen to an iPod without earphones or how to recharge the damn thing sans charger. PUNK.
Man, I looked like someone who had it together with my video iPod nestled in the futuristic bulk of the sports case, which was attached to an arm strap. I felt good to have a world of music at my disposal.
So, I removed the earphones from the pouch on top of the sports case in which they were kept. I smiled happily as I unwound them, thinking about how the iPod had brought a smile to my lips during a most miserable weekend and would be such a respite from the very long day. I plugged in the earphones, climbed the exercise machine and started the iPod.
Nothing.
Hm. Perhaps I didn't press the wheel hard enough.
Nothing still. How peculiar.
Maybe I need to hit the middle part of the wheel.
THERE'S SOMETHING MOEFFIN WRONG WITH THIS SOB!!!!!!!!!
And so I had to come home, recharge the bloody machine (it was fully freakin' charged until last night) and now it appears to be functioning properly.
I swear, if it malfunctions on me again, I'm taking it to the bloody Apple store and hurling it at a genius.
This experience did confirm that everything is always fucked.
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