Diary of an iPad Mad Housewife

Last night, I was going to title this post: "Dear Northridge Apple Store: You Suck."

I've calmed down now.

 
"You're over reacting," my husband admonished me when I called him with a stream of invectives over the way I felt I was mistreated by the manager of the Apple Store in Northridge.

Nothing pisses me off more than being told I'm being too pissed off.

Let me backtrack.

Until recently, the iPad 2 was not even on my radar. Of course, I coveted Apple's gorgeous little 3G tablet, as I've coveted the iPhone for years (the source of numerous rants about the company's decision to partner exclusively with carriers that don't happen to be the one I use).  And even as I've felt myself getting more and more behind the technology curve by not owning an iPhone, iPad or iPod Touch, I'd resigned myself to this fact: I don't actually need one.

But then came the phone call from my parents. "For your birthday this year, we want to buy you an iPad," they said.

My birthday is not until May - but six weeks ago, a card arrived with a nice, fat check inside - enough to buy a mid-model iPad. And that check was the catalyst that released years and years of my pent-up Apple desire.

I would have marched down to the Apple store and picked one right up, except for all the rumors of an imminent upgrade. My sister had already told me she was going to get an iPad2 when it was released, and we echanged links and emails every time one of us saw a new story about it on the web. We lamented the fact that we would be unable to stand in line for it together, as she lives in Northern California. We pondered the idea of purchasing it online.

By the time the new iPad 2 was revealed last week, I was chomping at the bit. The release date would be Friday, March 11. I kept my calendar open so I could spend the day in line for one. I envisioned dropping my daughter off at school and heading straight for Northridge Fashion Center, and figured I'd be close enough to the head of the line to have the thing up and running before school was out.

I had to change my plan when I learned that the devices would not be available for sale until 5:00 PM. I figured I was still OK, as we pass the mall on our way home. She would just have to stand in line with me.

On Thursday, I visited the Apple Store in Northridge and chatted for about 20 minutes with an enthusiastic employee. "This is the strangest product launch I've ever been involved with," he told me. "Usually, we have a big meeting to talk about the launch and procedures -- but this time, there's been nothing. I have no idea what to expect."

Yesterday morning, I received Apple's email announcing that the iPad2 was now for sale online. What the hell - I could just order and be done with it, I figured... and then I saw this: "Ships 2-3 weeks."

If I was being smart and dispassionate about this, I would have ordered it online and be done with it. After all, what's another two to three weeks? But by now, I've invested so much of my emotions in this, I didn't want to wait another minute.

The die was cast.

I went about my day yesterday daydreaming about all the fun I would have with my new toy. And when Megan got out of school, I tried to convince her to come with me to the mall. But she's been dealing with one of those bad virus-y things going around, and when she predictably protested the idea of spending a couple of hours line with me, I didn't fight her -- much. I drove her home and rushed straight back to the mall, where a queue was snaking from the Apple Store out to the parking lot. It was 4:00.

It actually wasn't as bad as I expected -- we were only halfway to the JC Penney that's anchored in the middle of the mall. I took my place at the end of the line, right next to a dumpster and made friends with my line mates.

I felt like I was 20 again, trying to score tickets to Jethro Tull, when the communal act of standing in line together becomes a social endeavor.

The young woman in front of me already had a first generation iPad, sealed in a box, which she was going to exchange for the new model. "I bought this for my mom's birthday last week, so I wouldn't show up empty handed," she said. "I wouldn't bother doing this if it was just for me," she said.

The man behind me actually worked in the field for Apple, but the company would not be providing him with one for another couple of months. "But when I'm out in the field demonstrating and someone asks if it's the iPad2, I can't tell them no, it's the old one," he said. So he was in line with the rest of us. "I can sell this one when they give me mine," he said.

 I called my sister. She was in line at her local store, in Roseville. We compared notes. "They're handing out numbers," she said. They had not started handing them out where I was.

But about a half hour later, they did. "This guarantees you an iPad only," they said. "But it doesn't guarantee that we'll have the model you want."

My sister called again. "They gave me a number, but when I told them the model I wanted, they said they were already out. So I'm meeting my friends for a drink."

The staff in Roseville were keeping a running inventory. The staff in Northridge didn't do anything of the kind.

So I suppose I should not have been so surprised when it was announced that the store had run out of all the 3G versions of the iPad, and all they had left were the cheaper wi-fi only models.

Unfortunately, they made this announcement just as I made it to the head of the line.

It was 7:00.

I had been there for three hours.

The store had extra security to help manage the crowd. Apple guy behind me suggested I wait a little longer so I could talk to someone in the store. "You never know," he said.

So that's what I did. It turned out they DID have some 3G models left - but they were on the Verizon network, and since we occasionally visit my husband's family in Britain, I wanted one that would work on a GSM network -- which means I need the AT&T model.

I held up my ticket, which seemed to indicate that I could prepay and reserve an item in the Apple store. Unfortunately, that doesn't work when the item you want is their latest hot product on launch day.

"I've been in line for three hours - doesn't that count for something?" I asked.

No. "All I can tell you is to try again tomorrow, and if we don't have it then, to come back on Sunday."

I turned around and walked out of the store. The sales clerk guarding the door was surprised that I was leaving empty-handed. "They're out of the model I want," I said.

"Oh that can't be!" she said sympathetically. "Have you talked to a manager?" She got her manager.

Unfortunately, talking to him just made me feel worse, because he echoed everything his salesperson told me and on top of that, kept parroting back the usual customer service drivel of "I'm sorry that happened to you." "I'm sorry you were inconvenienced." "I'm sorry. Come back tomorrow."

Each empty apology raised my adrenaline level until I hit my breaking point and I became one of those customers who takes out her frustration on someone who is trying to do a job in a difficult circumstance.

If this was any other kind of product, I would take my business elsewhere - but since Apple is the only company that mades Apple products, I can't do that.

So this morning, I returned to the Apple Store - only instead of Northridge, I went to Topanga Plaza.

I arrived at 7:30 am and was the first in line.

The manager was already there, restocking the non-iPad product. He was very nice; he told me he had no idea if there would be any iPads in today's shipment and that he thought I would have a better shot at getting one at one of the higher traffic stores in Glendale or Pasadena.

This manager is nice and giving real customer service; checking on those of us in line and giving regular updates. Of course, today is not as chaotic as it was yesterday.

He just informed me that he got final word: There will be no iPads shipped to the Topanga store today.

It's 10:00. Probably too late to drive to Glendale.

I'd better love the damned thing when I finally get it.

Comments

[Kelly Stone]

Love your writing style. I feel like I was there with you and now seething with anger plus feeling your pain. So we both are iPad2-less? Or did you score one?

[Donna]

Thank you, Kelly - that you like the post means a lot to me. And yes - still iPad2-less with no hope of getting near one until Monday at the earliest. But my sister did score one, so she's happy.

[Cynthia]

Oy, sorry you had such a horrible experience trying to buy it. Hope you get your fun new toy in your hands--soon!