Umbrellas for sun.

Geez lah-iouse. That's a long line for mid-day. Is Elton John signing copies of The Lion King soundtrack in a Simba costume? Is EAT giving away free lunches? Is Jude Law having an affair in the street?

I keep walking, past the masses eye-balling me, afraid that at any moment I might vaporize and swirl into the tightly packed line, disguising myself amongst them, only to re-emerge, solid and dangerous.
And in line... to see.. oh... that dude looks like Bobby Womack.

Maybe he's performing... at... the... Apple store.

Oh balls.

Nevermind.

It's the iPhone 4/God.

Why are people lining up NOW to get it? On their lunch breaks? Late to work? Taking the day off? What is it about technology that requires people to have it first, to have it NOW.

I mean, I lined up for the Harry Potter books. I even considered attending the pajama party at Barnes and Nobles the night before the release. Popcorn. Pajamas. Sleeping in Barnes and Nobles. At 16, they considered me a slight risk, so it was a no-go. When Subway introduced a limited-time-only-special-vegetarian-sandwich I got there the opening day. Italian vegetarian. More like the vegetarian with extra olives.

I think though that my issue here is supply and demand. JK Rowling only allowed for so many Harry Potter books to be sold. Only special people got them. People with Harry Potter pajamas who ate Berty Bots Every Flavored Beans despite KNOWING that one in three was either grass or vomit flavored. Subway also, runs out of vegetables.

But Apple? Apple will always have more iPhones. And you can go on a waiting list. Or go to O2 or Orange. Or order it online. So why the cue? Why the humid sweaty human caterpillar extending back from Regent's Street?

It's for the prestige. The glamour. The over-all trend-factor.

I walked up and down the line a couple times, taunting people with my trail mix and they just looked back at me, smirking. Even when I took out my iPhone 3GS(ubordinate) they seemed to know it was merely a rouse, a downgrade. Vengefully, I "snapped" their photos. They leaned back glamorously, flipping their hair or tilting their sunglasses whilst being a residue sweat towel for the open chested hairy man behind them. (Yes. Every other person was an open shirted hairy-chested man.)

See. Look at the photo above. The one I took with my iPhone 3GS. Even look at the dude with the vaguely Hawaiian shirt, jeans and Reeboks. He looks trendy by proximity. He's an associate of cool. Of cool-dom.

And see that girl? The one with the floppy hat and jesus sandals? She's blindingly awesome. And you can't see it, but I'll fill you in. She's just walked out the Apple store and HAS IT. Yep. That's the new iPhone 4/God in her hands. Look at her. Taunting everyone with her floppy hat. Giving the crowd a glimpse as she turns her head towards the traffic and then thinks, I have God in my hand. Why even bother checking for cars?

Let's try this again. Shall we?

I hallucinated today in Balham. Wait. Hold on. Why can't I stop it? I can't bring myself to not capitalize. My ability to completely disregard proper punctuation has mysteriously left me. I hallucinated and capitalized. I also took a photo. See. There. Up at the top. I should edit the aforementioned statement.

I had reflexology today in Balham. South of South London. Reflexology is a therapeutic method of relieving pain or stress by stimulating pressure points on the feet or hands. Mine was of the feet. I "had" reflexology. Sounds like a disease or a surprise child birth.

I had a reflexology treatment done today. I laid back in a bendy yet super supportive chair, covered in blankets and prepared for an hour of reflexology also known as foot tinkering. I closed my eyes. Bliss came early. My reflexologist was working her way across the padded portion of my right big toe when I entered an unprecedented state of deep calm. There was music playing, but it fell on deaf ears.

Relative silence. Then a large charcoal shadowy elephant billowed out of my stomach. It floated above my head briefly before entering back into it's chamber. My stomach, whence it came. The reflexologist was moving along the depths of my feet, but I had no idea where, they were cavernous comfy landscapes without SatNav. This! This!... Was uncharted territory. Thank holy moly I showered this morning.

I breathed deeply. Cleared my head. As my head was clearing out popped another darker, larger elephant. It floated a few feet. Hovered. Phew. Then it came crushing down on me with all its might. It's gargantuan bottom bee-lining for my nose. My face was going to be swallowed by an elephant tuchkus. Nearly. Instead, to my disbelief, I felt nothing. It disappeared into over half my body, its over extending bits eaten up by the carpet.

I breathed deeply. Elephants sprung up like daisy's in spring time. Only to be immediately evaporated. Presumably by the sun. They were coming out of my knee caps, my pelvis, my shoulders. They varied in size and color. I was their transcendental trampoline.

Eventually a tiny one sprouted up. I squinted through my closed eyes to see it. If ever there was a time for glasses. It had an odd coloration and a different shape to the others. Purpley smoke.

My mind was racing.

An African elephant? A baby Indian elephant? A Benjamin Button elephant? Elephant Jubilee? It lingered at the ceiling.

Could it be?!?

No.

Yes.

Could...?

A SPECIES CHANGE? Is it a hippopotamus? A pygmy hippo?

I... I can't tell. Turn around elepha-amus! Move it hipp-ant! Just a little to the side. I just need to see your silhouette. Is it a hyper long rat tail or a chode tail? Chode or hyper long rat tail? Turn around. You inconsiderate turd. You elusive fatty!

And then, my hipp-ant/elepha-amus disappeared into thin air. Even before its illustrious return to the cave.

A fanciful recluse. All show no action.

It occurs to me now that elephants and hippopotamuses have many distinguishing features on their faces alone. No need for backside viewage. But at the time I needed a tail. It was tell tail really.

I relaxed again. I heard the music for the first time. Native American drumming. Track change. Now "Sixteen Candles" kissing scene music. I breathed heavily. Lamas breathing even. I don't actually know what that is but if it's suitable for popping out eight pounds of mass it's suitable for reflexology. I wait for the return of the animals.

They do not come. My mind will not clear. They have run off to re-join their diverse herd. The elephants, Indian, Benjamin Button, Jubilee and African alike and their pygmy hippopotamus friend. Yes, I'm sure it was a pygmy. Either that or an obese hedgehog. No. It was a pygmy.

And thus, the end of my reflexology session. I am left cold and alone with a glass of water to drink so that my body may maintain equilibrium. I do feel a bit more balanced though. And stress free.

In conclusion, don't be surprised if I ask you to touch my feet. It's for a good cause.