The Burning Gates of Genius Bar Hell

I hate the Apple Store Genius Bar. It should be called the "Shit Out of Luck Bar." I've been going to this damn place since I got my first iPod in high school, which was when iPods were the size of a brick and relatively obscure. The scroll wheel actually moved. Does anyone else remember that, or am I the only fool who has been loyally handing over all my money to Steve Jobs all these years? Sometimes it feels like my love(/hate) affair with Apple has been going on since the dinosaurs. And considering I'm a frequent water-spiller/dropper/iPod killer, I've spent a lot of time getting things (not) repaired.

Now, these Apple Store tech geeks can probably help fix someone's problem, but never mine. The Genius Bar is an ominous place where my electronics, and thus, my soul go to die. A trip to the Genius Bar means drudging all the way through a mall littered with screaming parasite children just to hear a second opinion on what I'd known all along (but desperately tried to deny):

Your 15,000 songs are gone and we cannot get them back... unfortunately your pictures and your favorite movies are gone too. You didn't back up your data? What a dumb dumb.

This iPod cannot be fixed, but you may purchase a new one for $300. How many iPods have you gone through? More iPods than sexual partners? Paaaathetic.

Your life is essentially over, would you like to pay by credit card?

We don't care that your 7 year old laptop is broken. We only care about the 100,000 people in the store right now buying iPads. Your entire existence is like a 3rd world country. You're too poor to be here, go buy a Dell.

And so on, every god damn year it's something else.

Until today. Today, a Mac Genius saved my life. My Macbook's screen stopped working suddenly (okay, so not that suddenly, I may have dropped and/or thrown it.) My Genius, who was a totally cute computer nerd, informed me that the best case scenario was a pinched wire, which was $75 to repair. However, it was also possible I'd have to replace the entire LCD display for a rare bargain of $300. Fine, fine, whatever it takes. I had spent the last 2 days mentally preparing myself for worse news.

Then my Genius noticed that a piece was missing from the plastic casing around the top, which is covered under warranty for eternity, or something, which somehow would enable him to sneak in the screen repair under warranty on the down low. That's great! I said, and he informed me that I owed him a drink. I agreed. My Genius had me sign some paperwork, and then asked if I had a Prius. Uhh yes, how can you tell? I asked. My inner voice started freaking out. Are all Macbook owners also Prius drivers? Am I a hipster? Do I walk slow too? I couldn't figure it out. He said it was because I had a sense of humor. I thought this reasoning was confusing, but, sure, I do have a sense of humor and a Prius, so who was I to argue? The Genius pulled out a business card and wrote his email address on the back. I looked at it... [his name] at fuckyourprius.com.

Who is the genius now? Obviously, I am, since my laptop will be fixed for $0.