Why I Love Apple

It could be because of the elegant and daring industrial design.
It could be because of the legends surrounding the development of the little Mac that changed everything.
It could be the culture of “thinking differently.”
It could be because of the tight integration of software and hardware that ensures that everything “just works” the way you expect it.
Or it could be because of the insanely great customer service.
I’ve been having a few troubles with my iPhone lately. The headphone sensor got really confused, and the built-in speaker wouldn’t work anymore — for calls, or for music. Along with that, I had a couple other small complaints that could have been firmware glitches (from my adventures in hacking) or could have been genuine defects.
Whatever the cause, by 6:15 this evening, I had enough. I hopped online and made an appointment at the Apple Store’s “Genius Bar” for 7:15. By 7:25 I had a brand new iPhone.
Of course I restored my original handset to the non-hacked Apple firmware — although they could have proved I’d hacked it if they’d taken more than a cursory look. But they didn’t hassle me with that. I explained my problems while the “Genius” nodded along. He started to clean the headphone port with compressed air, then seem to think better of that, given my explanations, and instead opened a drawer full of iPhones. He pulled out a box, opened it, and swapped out my SIM card, and handed me a new phone.
He didn’t ask for my receipt. He didn’t give me the third degree. He didn’t examine it for signs of “abuse” (typically retailers look for any excuse to refuse warranty service). He didn’t ask me about my usage habits, or if I’d installed “unsupported software.” He didn’t even send it away for 3 weeks for servicing. Instead, he heard my issues and resolved them immediately, in a way that was beyond expectations.
The best part? A friend of mine managed to scratch my iPhone the week after I bought it, and that scratch, although tiny, had always bugged me. Now I have a brand-new, scratch-free handset, which I will never let Tara touch.