The Life and Death of an Apple MacBook Pro (aged six weeks, one day) 


 

 

Week one


Although I was bought and 'unboxed' on January 4th, 2018, I think a little perspective is needed here. I was of course designed in Cupertino, California, a member of the fourth generation of MacBook Pro laptops whose antecedents date way back to January 10th, 2006 when Steve Jobs himself *swoon* launched us into the Apple family. A proud day.
I may have sported a "Made in China" sticker on my pristine white box, but I am a machine of many parts as Apple has more than 200 suppliers worldwide. Who knows where all of me is really from?
What matters is by the end of December 2017, I was delivered to the Apple Store on Regent Street, London. And by the first Thursday in January, I had found an owner, a charming French graduate who had come in to have her four-year-old MacBook Pro fixed, was told it would cost £800 to repair and was persuaded to part with £1,249.
For me.
(Which she came to bitterly regret). 
 

Week two, three and four  


I settled into my new home in Notting Hill, London W8. Space Grey, 1.37kg, 13 inches, 500 nits of brightness (whatever that means) and resided on her desk overlooking the street and an antiques shop. My star attributes - a Kaby Lake and Intel Iris Plus graphics were woefully underused as my owner had an Hewlett Packard desktop computer at work (srsly?).  
Nevertheless, I'm ashamed to say I very soon began to malfunction. Upon opening, my screen would involuntarily shake for a few seconds. Then some of my keys began to stick. The 'return' one was particularly tiresome. 
V embarrassing. 


Week five

 
I was on her 'to-do' list (re: return to Apple) for almost four weeks, but you know how busy humans are these days. It wasn't like I was her iPhone. However, my shortcomings became clear once my owner started her new job at Soda on the wrong side of Kings Cross in early February. It was around this time two symmetrical indents were noticed on either side of my lid above my hinges. (I'm made of very thin, light aluminium.) The resident engineer Tamar peered over me. "That's weird. Take it back". I mean - just devastated. 


Week six


On Friday 16th I was popped into my Woouf laptop case with the red parrot design and taken back to Regent Street. After a two hour wait, a 'Genius' deigned to see us both. Edd with two ds admitted the sticky keyboard was a "recurrent problem". Then I was forced to show my dented lid. This caused much consternation and I was taken away to the back of the shop and tinkered with.
Edd returned to proclaim there was no water damage but that the dents were my owner's fault.
"You opened it too far."
She was tearful. I was outraged.
What would Mr Jobs have said? 
Little did either of us know British law demands goods to 'be of a satisfactory quality' and 'fit for a particular purpose', or your money back. Like laptops being able to be opened without crumpling.   
Instead what was offered was a box fresh computer for the price of a new lid. £380. Like he was doing us both a favour. 
Reluctantly the exchange was made and I was taken away. 
Six weeks old, barely used and facing death by recycling. I'm so 2018. 
PS It's really dark in here.