Today we took a company field trip to the Apple Store in Soho to get a Mac Mini for a project. We examined the display with the list of the different grades available. I noticed that the $499 entry-level model only had 256MB of RAM--not the 512MB that I thought I'd seen on the Apple website, a preferable amount. Not wanting any of the other upgrades that came with the higher grades, we decided to ask about getting only the memory upgraded.

There was a veritable swarm of greeters and salespeople in bright green shirts that said "Student Union" with a picture of a Powerbook. I initially took them to be college students getting a special chance to sell computers, but later realized they were the regular employees, just in green shirts. There were at least 15 of them working on the ground floor alone.

We went up to one of them to ask for our Mini. He proceeded to read out the contents of the display card that we had just familiarized ourselves with. We let him finish and then asked about the memory. An extra $150. Also, since there's only one slot for the memory, they have to put in a single 512 piece, and then you get to keep your superfluous 256 piece. We said no thanks, just the entry-level model please.

He went away for a bit, then came back and asked if we wanted to do the install ourselves, because they were real busy today, and it might take them 2 hours to do it. I said we'll do it ourselves, assuming he meant the operating system, although I didn't remember that being an issue in previous purchases. Mike said "wait, which install do you mean?" Salesman said, "the memory." Mike reminds him that we decided not to get the memory. He says "oh, okay, I'll be right back."

He comes back and hands us his business card with "Mac Mini $499, 512" written on it, and says "okay, one Mac Mini con el 512" and walks away. Well, let's just take it to the cashier and tell them we don't want the memory, I suggest.

We go to the cashier and she tells us that we have to tell the salesperson about it. A commission thing, we later learn. We take it to him, remind him one more time, and he indulges us by officially crossing out the "512" on the business card. We pay our $499 and leave.

Back at work I set up the computer, and just out of curiosity checked the "About This Mac" window. Below the line about the processor: "512 MB SDRAM".

On the Greyhound to Ithaca I looked over another passenger's shoulder. She was reading "True to the Game: A Teri Woods Fable." I saw a bit of dialogue that went like this:

"And guess who the fuck just got pregnant by Rik?"
"Who?"
"Veronica."
"That slut. He went up in her ass raw? And by the way, doesn't he fuck with some girl named Lita?"
"You know, I think he does."