Good Thing I Didn't Drop My Kids When They Were That Young

I don't usually hug people.  Family and friends know this about me.  And most coworkers have figured that out about me.  But I almost went against my hug-resistance movement yesterday at the Apple store.  Because I dropped my phone on the concrete a few days ago and severely cracked the screen, exactly 13 days after getting it for my birthday from my parents.

Side note - Mom, if you're reading this.  I'm sorry I broke my iPhone.  I didn't want to tell you because I knew you'd be disappointed (parentspeak for "MAD"). You can probably figure out why I kept this from you.  But don't worry, there's a happy ending to this story.

So I took my 13-day old phone to the Apple store and asked them what I could do about it.  After making an appointment for 6 minutes later (complete with a confirmation email that I didn't get until I got home) and waiting for 5 minutes, I showed it to one of the workers at the Genius Bar.  And she said it would normally cost $199 to get a new phone if the display is cracked.

And I'd like to say I turned on the charm and suavely convinced her to give me a discount.  But I just frowned and fought back the tears.  And she said that one word that hope dangles precariously from in such situations.  She said, "But...."

And I just knew she was gonna tell me she could charge me half of that.  But, even better than that, she said, "But... I can go ahead and replace it for free today.  Merry Christmas."

And I'm not lying when I say I almost hugged her right there on the spot.  I've never felt so much fondness for a complete stranger, except when I saw that 65-year old man do a handstand on a street corner in college.  That was awesome.  And yesterday was awesome too.