My silver iPod mini (codename: Magnus) had been misbehaving; the battery wouldn’t hold a charge for longer than 20 minutes. But it was a gift purchased at Cash Converters and I didn’t have a receipt for it. Still don’t.
I was a little concerned about this, but I need not have been.
I simply went to the appropriate page on the Apple website, gave them my serial number, filled out a short multiple choice test description of the problem, and with no futher questions asked, by some miracle of internet/real-world crossover technology, a new (well, refurbished) one arrived via the analog postal service today, a week later.
Now I have to post my broken one back to them and they will refurbish it and send it to someone else. I have this warm, glowing sensation; I’m really a part of something.
Hooray for Apple, the large corporation it’s sort of okay not to despise.
(Subsequent to actually opening said package: it transpires that Steve & co. have, in fact, sent me a refurbished power adapter, which is of no use at all. Hmph.)
In other happy news, Ms Fits has acknowledged my existence. I feel a bewildering array of emotions. Of course this is a joyous occasion and a vindication of many years of struggle but I am somewhat plagued by a sense of unworthiness.
Also: what am I to do with the rest of my life?
