Saturday morning, I was walking to the Biscuit Bitch to get my breakfast. I was listening to a podcast on my phone when the sound died. I took my phone out of my pocket to see if accidentally hit a button to lower the volume. As I was pulling my phone out of my pocket, it hit the ground. It was not a dramatic drop, just a few feet from my hip to the pavement. When I picked it up, the screen was smashed to bits. When I touched the screen, I got glass splinters in my fingers. When I got back to the condo, I made an appointment at the Apple store on Sunday morning to get my screen fixed. First things first. Make the appointment, then decide what to do.
I had more than 24 hours to ponder the fate of my phone. I could have fixed it for $150, but that is a lot of money to invest in an iPhone 7. A three year old phone in the world of creative/planned obsolescence is a dinosaur. I could have used the Boy's old iPhone 7 as he now has an Android, but then I would have to erase his phone with ten hours of skiing videos to load my phone's data with my 500 contacts. My hairdresser (bless his heart!) told me to get a new phone.
"Get an iPhone 12. They are 5G, 4G, and LTE, so wherever you go you can use it," he said. He has an iPhone 12 Pro, and he loves it. "My boyfriend fixed the screen on his old phone, and it wasn't the same. A month later, he got a new phone." My decision was made. I was going to get a new phone. Normally, I get a late model phone, never the newest. This time, I was going to get the 12.
The next morning, I put my sad damaged little phone in a ziplock baggie and brought it to the Apple Store.
This is when, to my own horror, I turned into Karen.
I didn't cancel my repair appointment because I wanted to get a new phone immediately, and the appointment was my ticket into the store. I didn't want a new phone dropped shipped from wherever and delivered in three days. I wanted a shiny new beautiful light green state-of-the-art phone in my manicured, moisturized and sanitized hand.
Why did I turn into Karen? But first, who is Karen? Any white, middle aged woman of a certain socio-economic group who thinks rules were not meant for her is Karen. Any white, middle age woman of a certain socio-economic group who thinks she knows better than others not in her demographic is a Karen. For example, some Karen's might now wear a mask because it is her right not to. In other cases, Karen might walk into a grocery store and tell everyone to stand six feet away from her. She might tell someone they need to buy that avocado they touched.
Karen's are not always Karen's 24/7. Sometimes Karens act out only for an hour or two a month, maybe a year. It is not necessarily a permanent way to be. Rather, it can be a way women react when they feel they don't have control over anything.
My friend H had her Karen moments, even though she is Asian. I remember I was visiting H in San Francisco in the 1990's and we went to a coffee. H was working in an investment bank at the time and chewed out the barista because her coffee sucked.
"Have you had Starbucks coffee? Starbucks is way better than this. This is terrible," H said.
H had lived in America since she was seven, and has no accent. She is tall, thin and gorgeous. She is the most beautiful of all of my friends by far. She has random guys on the street tell her how pretty she is. She gets free stuff and a free pass because of her beauty. Plus, she is wicked smart. In this case, H got a free pass from the barista even though H was obnoxious. The barista should have told H to stop at Starbucks on her way to Hell. I tell this story not because H is a jerk, but because this was the only time I've ever seen her act remotely like that. It was totally out of character for her to berate the staff.
H was being a pre-Karen, or maybe a proto-Karen.
When I passed the screening to get in the doors of the Apple store, I became a full on Karen.
"My phone broke and I was going to get it fixed, but I decided to get a new one," I said, flipping the baggie with my pathetic and smashed phone on the counter.
"You can order a new phone online," the twenty-something blond chick said to me.
"Yeah, that isn't going to happen. I am not leaving this store without a new phone, bitch," I telepathed to Apple clerk. I am not a real Karen. I would never say that aloud. Seriously--what kind of store doesn't want to sell you something? I get the pandemic and all, but please, bitch, I need a phone.*
This was going to be tough. First, I was up against my own kind -- another female. Men are easier to bend. I couldn't flirt my way into getting a new phone. Second, I was wearing a mask. I didn't have the option to smile and pretend I was nice.
"How can I order something online when my phone is a piece of garbage?" I asked.
Right, the Apple clerk must have been thinking. This bitch doesn't look like she works retail. She probably has four computers are home from her remote work. If she wanted to, she could order a phone while she is sitting on her couch and not risk giving me COVID.
"Do you know what of phone you want?"
"I'll take a 12," acting as if I knew what I wanted.
"Which kind of 12?" she asked.
Oh shit. I had an idea, but I wanted to look at them, like real shopping. That is why I went to the store. I wanted to shop.
"What kind do you have? Can I look?"
"We can't let you look at the phones," she said. "We stopped that policy of letting people look at phone a few days ago."
Hmmm. I could sense I was in dangerous waters. She could kick me out and tell me to order online, but I really wanted to spend ten minutes picking a color. You really can't tell from the website. Did I want the blue or the green? If I am going to spend a few hundred bucks on a phone, I want to touch it first. Or, did I want to leave the store with a phone that didn't give me glass splinters? I wasn't a shopper here with the sole purpose of getting the latest and greatest tech gadget. I wanted a phone that didn't look like it was pounded by a hammer.
There was no way this clerk was going to let me get past the Great Wall of Apple Store Desks to see the merchandise. I was going to have to pick on the fly.
"I don't want the mini and I don't want a giant one," I said.
"What color?"
"Can I see them?" I asked. The Apple clerk winced. I could see the cognitive dissonance in her eyes. She was deciding whether or not to make a sale or to follow the rules and tell people to order online. There was always the risk that I'd walk out and decide to say "Fuck Apple. I'm getting an Android." (Ha! That's not gonna happen.) She was leaning towards the sale and I was getting my phone! She showed me pictures of the 12 on her phone. Shit. I could have done this at home. I picked the green one because it triggered some nostalgia of something. It is a sweet color, like mint ice cream.
The clerk handed me over to Bryce to complete my order.
"Anything else?" he asked. A phone case, please, since my last phone shattered.
I walked out happy as I could be considering I had an unexpected expense due to my own clumsiness. It was a small victory in a world where I am not having many right now. My team at work was dissolved and now I am orphaned. My career lacks certainty, which sucks because my job was the most stable thing in my life. My kids are coming back for to Seattle for Christmas, which is good but stressful. Plus I don't have my usual stress release activities--walking with friends, going out to eat, seeing plays.
So what does Karen do? When she is lacking control in her personal life, she find other ways to find success, victories, not matter how small or how petty.
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