So being appreciative of Apple's products and service in a world of constant crap thrown at me by corporate monkeys, I decided to make a unscheduled appearance at the grand opening of the newest Manhattan Apple Store. Of course, you all know the real reason I went is because Steve Jobs has successfully installed a glittering glass cube in the middle of a landscape of towering concrete skyscrapers (something I've been trying desperately to do since i moved here). The time may be right for the reemergence of my shelved campaign to seed all major hubs of activity with inhabitable geometric constructs and bestow them with the proper city ordinances, putting them on the fast track to citizenship and preparing for eventual consultation by the intellectual elite.

Setting aside the fact that it is just a store opening, it was truly a dream come true to see such a mass of bodies undulating before a giant cube with a glowing white heart. The line snaked back and forth in front of the gem, then ran to the end of the block, turned the corner, and headed all the way down to Madison Ave. At the intersection, it turned up Madison and ran until 59th st, where it turned west on 59th, all the way over to 5th ave again. At this point, it crossed 59th, turned right, and went all the way back down to Madison again, at which point the security personnel gave up trying to direct the savage advance of lustful peoples and just sent them further up Madison, past 60th st, and onward toward the horizon. My line mates consisted chiefly of an amused woman wearing earphones and full of carefully executed bits of sarcasm, a giddy teenage boy, an overweight nerd with beady eyes, a young woman and a mustached man who laughed at everything, and two advertising execs doing their best to drop tidbits about their lives such that everyone would overhear. After I braved this, and the cube began coming into view, I noticed that an old acquaintance works at the store. No doubt they hired him because he's extremely tall, smiles a lot, and wears 15 different colored elastics in his hair.

Upon entering The Cube, I noticed that the Apple Store still maintained my fantasy of the geometric overloads, as uniformed acolytes cheered and clapped to signal their approval of my undertaking of the Rite of Entrance. The first floor of the Cube is perfect: it is absolutely empty except for the giant glowing Apple hovering above and heralding my arrival. After making a foolish attempt to engage in discussion with it, I was directed past the transparent transport pod to the circular stairway that wraps around said elevator in a downward spiral into the heart of the reverie below. At this point I was welcomed by more acolytes who danced and bowed and sung hymns to further prepare my mind with an air of devotion. At the base of the temple I was supplied with my free Apple robe and a small portion of a papyrus scroll detailing the sacred terms and conditions of my chance to obtain a free machine on which to perform the activities that will assist in my advancement on whichever path I choose. (I entered dozens of times, but never won anything.)

Like its evil twin, Scientology, the tasty goodness of the Apple Cube has attracted celebrity followers, no doubt drawn to support the event after Apple pollenated their A-list with magical telegraphs. There was a non-stop influx of attention-getting figures. First I came across Amy Poehler & Rachel Dratch of SNL (though apparently the whole Saturday Night Live clan was there).
The actor Liev Schreiber was being mobbed while Triumph the Insult Comic Dog (from the Conan O'Brien show) slid himself down the stairway railing, shouting at people. No doubt because some guy followed him around with his hand in a precarious position.
Spike Lee was easily the one who made himself the most available to assaultive chatter. Which is funny, because I met him years ago and he merely listened to what I had to say, gave a long pause, then drooled out "So... You're a fan?"
James Woods shouted and lurched about causing people to throw their arms in the air and repeatedly blurt out "That's James Woods!" He's quite a guy, and most certainly knows how to excite Germans.
John Legend, the pianist, made the rounds rather happily. The highlight for me though was meeting Steven Colbert who felt compelled to autograph my white cube that contained the sacred Apple garments that I was given.
The low point was discovering, rather tragically, that I was standing next to the rapper Kanye West only to find myself being trampled by screaming people moments later.
Apparently I just missed Dave Chapelle, Jay-Z, and Beyonce, followed by her heavily-insured derriere. Elizabeth Berkeley, another person I've run into before, was reportedly there, along with Julianne Moore. Then there was Kevin Spacey, Drew Barrymore, Kevin Bacon, Martha Plimpton, Mos Def, and Harry Connick Jr. But enough is enough when you have several boot impressions in your pelvic region. (Also there's the fact that few of these people are actually interesting.)

I felt sufficiently cubic after a few hours of bewildered animation, and headed home to discover that the all-seeing, omnipresent eye of the Cube had captured my visit in its time lapse internet stream.


the Cube had captured my visit in its time lapse internet stream

It also captured some fellow who proposed to his girlfriend using large white signs. The Cube will see and do many things before our descendants row it out to sea to greet the cacophonic spires of a falling sun at the edge of time, and I am pleased to know that at that time it shall possess a whimsical memory of me.