Woo hoo, the long-awaited Apple store opens in Southampton on Saturday. Apparently the first 1000 people through the doors will get a t-shirt and rumoured other goodies, and I have friends who have seriously suggested getting there really early to scoop the loot. Err, no.
The last time I queued up for something like this was to get tickets to see Depeche Mode in 1983. I walked the 3 miles into town with my friend Claire (who had the perfect Dave Gahan fringe). We got to the theatre at about 6am and sat and watched the sunrise and the milk-floats clatter and chink before us… alone. Admittedly by 9am lots more teenagers had turned up – each and every one (both male and female) had their long fringe over the one eye and much too much black eyeliner. The only reason this was any fun at all is because I was 14 years old and anything you did without members of your family present was a big adventure – even sitting in a cold, damp alley-way between an old Victorian theatre and a ‘no women allowed’ Turkish bath in a dodgy part of town.
No, if you see me in an Apple t-shirt after the weekend it will be because I maintained my dignity and paid cash for it like any other sane person would. I know I am old now, as I would much prefer to spend the early hours of Saturday morning snuggled into my 15-tog duvet for as long as possible, only rising for my softly boiled, free-range, organic egg, wholemeal toasted soldiers and a giant mug of tea.
**update**
Here it is. I saw the back of a lot of heads and got much too physically close to some very dubious specimens of manhood and saw very little Apple action. Think I’ll try again in a week or two when the frenzied mobs have subdued.
More of the madness can be seen here.
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