Dear Millennial Passenger in 2B Who Thought I Was the Genius Bar

Dear Millennial Passenger in 2B Who Thought I Was the Genius Bar,

Hello from 2A. I boarded this Atlanta to Dallas flight expecting a quiet journey. What I did not expect was to be hired on the spot as unpaid Apple Support.

Every five minutes you tapped me on the shoulder with the urgency of someone trying to stop a nuclear meltdown.

“Hey sorry do you know why my phone is doing this”

Sir.

I do not.

At first I tried to help because I am a decent human being. Turn it off. Turn it back on. Say a prayer. Accept that technology sometimes humbles us. But the requests kept coming. Bluetooth. Wi Fi. Airplane mode. A mysterious app that vanished like a ghost.

At one point you handed me your phone with full confidence like I was about to fix your entire digital life. I genuinely thought you were going to ask me to reset your iCloud password and text your mom to let her know you were safe.

Let us be honest. We are the same generation. You survived dial up internet, LimeWire viruses, and MySpace top eight drama. This should not be my cross to bear.

By the time we landed in Dallas I was emotionally depleted, spiritually tired, and drafting an invoice in my head for in flight technical consulting services.

Sincerely,

Seatmate Not Support Staff

(currently refusing eye contact and protecting my personal space)