As students come back to campus from winter break, it is common to see renewed ‘fits and fresh kicks that were garnered through shopping and/or the holidays. However, this year marks something new.
While they existed last semester, since winter break their spread had gotten to catatonic levels. I know you must be shaking in fear, but the enemy may already be with you. Check your ears, my friend; if there is no cord, you’re already gone.
Since their release, Apple AirPods have become not just one of the hottest technology items but a fashion accessory. Their sleek yet simple design and their intrinsic Apple clout have made them a must-have for many. Those on campus know this too well.
While they are fresh, with them comes two issues. First off, no one can hear anymore. As an infected, I walk around campus in a new way since my acquisition. My music pumps in and secludes me in my own world. Something about the AirPods prevents any sound to penetrate, thus making me always unsure if the non-users are speaking to me. How dare they, you may ask. This is how you know your pods have gotten to you.
As early reports come out from some of my insiders across the globe, it seems that the World Economic Forum is now determining socioeconomic class by if someone owns AirPods or not.
For those in possession of the mobile husks, you are among the elite — the upper class, flooded in wealth. For the deprived ones among us still using cords, you are technically now classified as “broke as heck.”
Reports of AirPod use in class has skyrocketed as well, with over 99 percent of students now jamming independently as the professor spreads his or her wisdom. There is fear among the Thirsty Thursday crowd that Last Resort will be full of pods. DJs in the tri-state area I know are in fear and pleading to not DJ a crowd unless there is a no-pod rule.
With the pods, though, we are all susceptible to the series of annoying conversations that result from the use of AirPods. As one walks across the Quad, if you mistakenly make any eye contact with someone rocking the pods, you find yourself in a situation of trouble.
It stars with either the *tap tap* or the hair flip into popping one out. From then comes a variety of phrases. These essentially consist of the same statement, but you mostly likely will hear one of the following:
“What did you say?”
“I didn’t get that?”
“You talking to me?”
While the answer is always going to be, “I wasn’t talking to you,” the verbal exchange will occur countless times. I am already lost; I have been part of the AirPod gang since November. But you all can still save yourself.
Basically, don’t buy these pods, they cost too much money and look dumb. But if you don’t rock them, please don’t talk or sit with me.
