Nikki’s getting her hair done.
I’m on the other side of the mall. As one might expect for a Satruday afternoon, the Apple Store is full of potential commerce. Off-hand, I’d guess there are about 60 people in here. The sonic atmosphere is a mix of stacked conversation and indeterminate ambient music.
I’m posting from the new MacBook Pro. The black one. Already, I can see how others have complained about the keyboard. The keys are no longer up against one another. There are little plastic valleys between every key, kind of like an old accounting calculator from Texas Instruments or Radio Shack. As a result, my fingers keep skidding into the void.
It’s hot, too. Admittedly, black adds a certain hotness, but I’m being literal. The keyboard itself is warm to the touch. It could just be due to how long the poor thing has been sitting here, flat against the birch veneer of this table, but I’m pretty sure that my four-year-old iBook doesn’t give off this much heat … not upwards through the keys, anyway.
Enough of this. Time to move on down the mall.
Thank you, Apple Store.
