(iKnow, iAm overusing the iJokes.)

We had a very pleasant journey to the Land of Alum this week.  I'm a new member of an advisory council that helps provide real-world experience and insight to a once-floundering major.  Thanks in large part to the faculty and dean, by the time the council convened, most gears had already been put in motion and great strides made.  Which was good, because my "Student Outreach Program" - an arrow-through-the-head prop, '101 Collegiate Jokes', and free condoms - was immediately deemed inappropriate.

The trip was relatively uneventful.  While I spent the better part of two days in meetings and classes on campus, Amberino lounged around the hotel room and downtown, recharging her batteries.  As we were leaving Brooklyn on Wednesday, the rental car read 61 degrees.  When we arrived in Ithaca, it was about 35 degrees, and it just got colder and colder with each new day.  Last night, I saw it was 6 degrees; Ithaca, I miss you not.  (Actually, our heat is off right now and our landlord is away, so it's not much better inside our apartment.  If the coroner declares our cause of death "Sub-thermal Overnight Frigidation", don't act surprised.)

The greatest part of the trip was using the iPhone in real-life simulations for the very first time.  iPhone, what happens when we leave Avis and don't have a map?  You say you'll pull up Google Maps, with live traffic reports, and locate our current position?  Splendid!  And what about group photos, when all others have neglected their cameras?  You'll shoot a high-quality 2-megapixel photo and email directly to my Flickr account, instantly posting online?  Marvelous!  But I'd also like to know how my March Madness bracket holds up as the game concludes on the TV at the bar.  Whilst I twiddle a brandy snifter in my left hand, I can surf The World Wide Web in my right?  Utter magic!  Why, next you'll be telling me I can play your 8GB of MP3's through a simple $1.49 mini-to-mini cable plugged into a car stereo!

Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa?!?!

Just like a baby, iPhones can only teach - and be taught - through trial by fire.  And once you wipe the ashes and soot from it's encasement, I think you'll find it prepared and quite able.

Despite a year of sarcastic musings and grumblings, I broke down and got an iPhone.  Rather, my old phone broke down and I got an iPhone.  Or, more accurately, Baker took my old phone, treated it like a shuffleboard puck, threw it off the desk, and broke it, resulting in my getting an iPhone.  (This is all an exercise to justify the cost / blame the cat.)

The incident happened last weekend.  I spent the last few days with a semi-functional cell phone from 2003; it was on and I could probably txt, but I definitely couldn't hold a phone conversation, and not just due to my GenX / GenY pseudo-ADD compulsions.  For the last few of months, I've been musing over a real mobile phone that could fully integrate into my semi-mobile / semi-stationary life.  Couple that with looming travel less than a week away, and I had all the spark I needed to go out and blow hundreds of dollars on a shiny object that did stuff.  I dedicated some research time to the options that laid before me, and the iPhone came out on top.

This is where it gets complicated.

The big hurdle would be finding the elusive 'refurb' model, for almost half of the cost of a new one.  (For those not in the know: Apple used to carry a 4GB, then a 8GB, and very recently added a 16GB while stopping the 4GB; so you can buy refurbed 4GB's & 8GB's, but not 16GB.)  Right now, you can buy new 8GB's for $399, and 16GB for $499.  Those are both wildly expensive (for cheap 'ol me), nevermind the additional taxes and sign-up fees to boot.  You can buy refurbished 8GB's from Apple directly for $349, which is nice, but too prudish.  Last week, the interwebs were abuzz with word that AT&T - the exclusive iPhone carrier service (unless you've got money, hacking aspirations, and a pair) - was selling 8GB refurbs for $249.  But I missed that boat, and had to hunt down residual stock around AT&T stores in NYC.  There was no time for an online order, even if they had stock, which they didn't; I had no functional phone, we were leaving on a 500 mile journey in 2 days, and I needed to Twitter.

At this point, I had my mind set on the 8GB refurbished model, though if I haaaaad to, I could make do with a 4 GB refurb, for $199.  The only difference is storage space, and while I might get crazy with downloading applications, I already had a sexy, super-sleek iPod for music, courtesy of my sexy, super-sleek girlfriend-slash-Santa.  But for only $50 more, I wanted twice the space.  I wanted it real bad.  So bad that I forewent my lunch break to hustle up to the closest AT&T store to get it; I had called ahead and the woman at the store said they had 'a few' refurbished 4GB & 8GB in stock.  But, of course, when I arrived, no more than an hour after the call, they didn't have any.  It was quickly apparent that I was getting the runaround; the first woman I spoke to there said they didn't have any, didn't believe me when I said someone there told me that they had 'a few' about 45 minutes prior, and seemed to know exactly who to walk over to speak to about the issue.  As I 'walked around the store' (her likely suggestion), the second woman - apparently the one from the phone call - apologized, and made a poor attempt of covering her ass.  Her manager, she claimed, had just come by the store to pick up their refurbished stock (for some strange reason), and also claimed they were not allowed to hold stock for customers (which she had passively mentioned on the call she would do).  She was oh so sorry, and said I should come back later in the week when they got more in, if they got more in.  I'm not entirely sure the logic behind this chunk of bull, but I guess the tactic was to get me in the store to either shop around or pick up a brand new model for more money and, presumably, more commission.

The point of my rehashing that part of the story is to frame my 4+ year absence from cell store salespeople interactions, my initial naiveté, and my swift resolve into playing hardball.

Now, in the interest of fairness and karma, I should also state that my Big iPlan involved my own carrying of a fabled tune.  "This purchase is a gift," I would say, "and thusly I care not for coverage plan sign-up.  Please transact this consumer good, post-haste!"  From there - as suggested to me by a coworker - I would bring the iPhone to an authorized AT&T reseller, with whom I could haggle, and recoup some of the upfront hardware costs.  (In my coworker's situation, he walked away with one hundred George Washington's.)  But with AT&T directly, haggle you may not.  Additionally, I knew for a fact that AT&T can't refuse your purchase of an iPhone just because you don't want to sign up for coverage as well.  While the employee may not make any commission, nor AT&T any revenue (yet), you as a consumer have a right.  What I was not entirely sure about, however, was whether this truth held water for refurbished models too.

So after my first encounter with an AT&T representative on the day, I was armored and ready for more.  I called up 4 AT&T stores in lower Manhattan, and found only one had refurbished 8GB's in stock.  I shagged ass to the store, kicked down the front door in a blinding explosion of glass shards and demo LG's, and screamed, "Gimme gimme gimme!!!".

10 minutes later, I was walking out of the store iPhone-less.

On my the first trip of the day to an AT&T store, I never got to pull out the Big iPlan lie.  When I left iPhone-less, it was because of their employee's ineptitude.  On the second trip, however, I had met my match.

"Hi, I called earlier about buying a refurbished iPhone."
*long pause of surly counter-leaning*  "Do you have a plan now?"
(Lie) "No, I would need one, but the phone is a gift, so I just need the phone."
*long, long pause and dagger-staring*
(Maybe-lie) "You can't buy the phone without buying a plan."
(Lie) "I've never heard of that before.  I just need the phone.  The person getting the phone will sign up later."
(Maybe-lie) "You can't buy the phone without buying a plan.  We have to run a credit check anyway."
(Lie) "That's fine, but the person getting the phone has to get the plan herself.  I just need to buy the thing as a gift and have her handle the plan coverage.  I mean, I'll come back to this store and sign up with you, so you can get the commission and all." (<-- Super lie)
(Maybe lie) "Nuh-uh.  I can't sell this to you unless you buy a plan.  Talk to my manager."
"Okay, is---"
*sarcastic half-smile* "She ain't in."

It went on like this, each side escalating their respective woven tales.  As time went on, I started believing she might have been telling the truth.  Regardless, she upped the ante by stating, "I don't even know if we have any in stock".  And after checking the back room, confirmed there was only one, and it was being held for someone that wasn't named Eric.  I threw up my hands, declaring her the victor, and left.

But third time's a charm, and at our next stop, the 17th St. AT&T store, a nice young man named Juan pleasantly sold me a refurbished 8GB iPhone, broke down all the coverage costs in simple and honest terms (I abandoned my Big iPlan at this point, $100 be damned), and gave us a heads up on how to save some additional cash in the future.  When I inquired about possible future upgrades to the plan, he smiled and said that I could do so online but I should come back to the store and ask for him to do it.  I may not trust AT&T, or any other faceless corporation, but they've got a good egg in Juan, and I will be sure to throw any cell-related business his way in the future.

We're packing for our trip now, just the three of us, Amber, myself, and the iPhone.  Amber will of course be sitting in the back of the car; I didn't take out any insurance on the phone, and I need to make sure it's absolutely safe at all times.  She's a beauty, this phone.  I've purchased her two drinks and commented on her eyes already.  With any luck, I'll be txt'ing and calling with her real soon.  She's already dropped hints by pre-mapping posh boutiques in her Google Maps, to buy her expensive accessories.  I'm a sucker for a pretty display.