The Apple Store exists to compliment the core of the Apple experience: image. With sleek, modern, and hip products, it makes sense that Apple would replicate that in every aspect of its company.
Steve Jobs, tired of playing second fiddle to Bill Gates, devised multiple, elaborate plans to destroy his arch nemesis. After dealings with assassins, deadly weapons contractors, the A-Team, and kryptonite, Jobs had determined Gates was an unstoppable force. He did not give up, however, and continued expanding his organization of evil, Apple (a big thanks to Microsoft, considering they funded most of it).
On May 19, 2001, Apple opened its first two stores. These were sleeper cells. From inside to outside, they looked like normal specialty stores, but this was an elaborate disguise. They blended in, waiting to strike until Apple unveiled its secret weapon, codenamed "Operation Breaching the Gates."
Five months later, Apple released their secret weapon, a device designed to enslave and corrupt the world around it, effectively alienating Gates' influence. Its earbud design was utilized to cover up the user's ears, ensuring that no common sense could get through. This left unsuspecting victims open to the influence of Apple's subliminal messaging, inserted into the user's favorite songs through a simple file modification. The iPod slowly degenerated the culture, indoctrinating them to all Apple products, including their operating system, Macintosh. (citations needed)
It's written on the internet, so it must be true.
Just let it all in.
Most Apple Stores look like the above picture; they are sleek, stylish, and love using transparent walls (There must be a better word to describe that). To be completely honest, they look pretty damn sweet. There aren't many things to not like aesthetically. The only bummer is the image its company continues to perpetuate, the image that continues to attract so much hate (at least from me - I could just be a very hateful person), but more on that later.
The doors open up into a hipster's paradise, the room adorned with pedestals displaying the latest and greatest in Apple technology - in other words, iPods, iPads, iPhones, and Macs. The sides usually contain Apple accessories, which provide convenient, one-stop shopping for all of a customer's Apple-related needs. So, if a customer needs a screen protector and earbuds, but doesn't need food, water, or any of the other essentials of life, the Apple Store has everything they need. At the back of the store, in the furthest reaches and deepest depths, sits the infamous Genius Bar. The "Just the Facts" section of this article illustrates my thoughts on using the qualifier "genius" to describe something so opposite to the word, but I'll go into a little bit more detail here.
First of all, the layout - the Genius Bar is just that, a bar. There are barstools and everything. Bad ass, right? The only missing links are lack of alcohol, which is pretty necessary after dealing with the bartenders, and the whole "social environment" thing that bars are supposed to represent. Apple products don't seem to have the same inhibition-dissolving effects as alcohol, so I usually bring my own. Unfortunately, the last time I tried to hook up at the Genius Bar, they threw me out (had to do with "sexual what'cha call it," or something).
Not all of the Apple Store employees are Geniuses, so I'll briefly cover them here. These employees, I assume, are paid even less than their Genius counterparts. Their duties include restocking products, hovering around the store like ghosts, and occasionally engaging customers in conversation.
These people are not geniuses. Genius should never even be a term to describe tech support. They are specialists. They specialize in something so the special customers do not have to. And calling these guys specialists is a stretch itself. The only real qualification to become an Apple Genius is some retail experience (and just maybe knowledge in the hardware they fix). The Genius Bar even has (or had; research didn't come to anything conclusive) a big red phone with a direct line to a real specialist, in case making sure the computer is plugged in/turned on doesn't work.
Truth be told, the Apple Geniuses are props, just like the fancy windows and backlit walls. The whole idea of the Apple Genius is accessory to its identity as a company. The image it has been pushing since the iPod took off, an image of style, works very well with the Genius Bar. Style is exclusive and often snobby, and, as tech becomes an "in" thing, the only way to thematically put oneself above the competition is to hail intelligence.
There are also psychological implications to using the title. The only reason Sam can't fix his/her Macbook pro or determine his/her sexual identity is because he/she is not a genius. That's a pretty comforting thought. After all, dubbing employees "People who have enough sense to use Google" is a little bit more condescending. In fact, if Sam would do a quick Google search, he/she would most likely find an easy fix to the Macbook problem and discover that Sam is a very genderly ambiguous name. Unfortunately, Sam does not have enough sense to use Google, and, since the Apple Genius is not employed to teach the facts of life, Sam shall forever remain wholly unaware of his/her gender.
WHAT AM I!?