There are too many options in life. No surprise there. I've written before about being stymied trying to buy a flat-iron and don't even get me started on how long it takes me to select a bottle of nail polish (deciding if I'm a "Carnation Pink," "Sunset Sky" or "Crimson Glow" is just beyond my decision-making capabilities). Now there's a new horror to add to the list: shopping for a shell for my iPhone.
I went to the Apple store yesterday, which required an act of courage. Wall-to-wall people. However, as most of them were either playing with iPad's or trying to bribe sales reps to move their names to the top of the list for the new iPhones, I figured I could move out fairly quickly. That's before I met "The Wall."
"The Wall" is a 10 foot long, floor to ceiling display of all the different colors and textures for an iPhone carrying case. There were pinks and purples, blacks and grays, metallics, rubber, daisys, polka-dots... All screaming at me that choosing a cover is a monumental decision as it affects how people see and interpret my personality, financial status, and probably whether or not I'm nice to kids.
My instinct was to just lay low and go with basic black. However, I went with the vanilla car choice (beige Toyota Camry) and have regretted it ever since. I can never find my car in a parking lot because it looks exactly like the thousands of other beige Camry's in the lot. But was I a pattern person? Could I pull an orange rainbow phone out of my purse in front of a client and still maintain my professionalism? Maybe not.
I stood staring, gape-mouthed, at the display for a good 10 minutes before an Apple employee asked if I needed any help. That snapped me out of my stupor. "This one," I said, grabbing a metallic turquoise-blue shell that was closest to me on the wall.
"Ooh, I love this one," she said.
Bless her. Maybe it's just good sales training and she really loathed it, but I needed the pick-me-up.
So what does my cool blue metallic shell say about me? Hopefully that I'm fun, warm, intelligent, and love to laugh.
And with any luck it also sends out the clear message that I really don't like kids.
p.s. Stay tuned for tomorrow's post on "Why The Ladies At The Clinique Make-Up Counter Are Mean"