The Apple Watch is driving people crazy
On Apple Watch forums all over the internet, people are going insane. The Watches are being shipped, or rather, their statuses are changing, according to their SKU. So all 42mm stainless steel watches with a black sport band (a single SKU) have yet to change status to “preparing for shipment,” the illusive phrase of hope. The denizens of Apple Watch forums figured this out through thread after thread of people expressing how disturbed they are, how annoyed they are, how unprofessional it is of Apple to not give them any information, even though they, like everyone else on the forums, know damn well Apple can have the package in your city without ever sending you a tracking number.
But it is driving me a little crazy. I took Friday off to take delivery of the watch. I ordered mine minutes after the store opened. I’m starting to have real, proper dreams about experiencing the Watch. But they’re just that: abstract sense memories of my “experience” of the watch. The Watch floats in a black void, composed of the antiparticles of Jony Ive’s white room. I’m not even sure the Watch is on, but it rotates, or I move around it. Hard to tell in this void. Then snapshots of it on, from different angles, changing once per dream-second. I wake up, believing I saw a sign. Has my order status changed, and Apple communicated it to me through my dreams? I resist the urge to check my phone, charging across the room. I descend into the embrace of sleep.
The Watch is on my wrist. I have taken delivery. It is Friday, or a dream Friday, a perfect Friday, a Friday to be dethroned only by my upcoming wedding, also on a Friday. I savor it in the first person. Light glints off some unseen warm lamp above it, stainless steel and fluoroelastimer dancing down my long arm. I raise my wrist, the Watch greets my eyes with an image of a chronograph full of complications that have never felt physical bodies, never held the gaze of some king in silks. I smile, my arm falls to my side, and I stride forward into a new dawn.
I wake, disgusted and enchanted, like a young teenager on Christmas morning.