Let’s just say it was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad time that luckily had a happy ending (although perhaps not a particularly happy ending from my mac’s point of view), but not before tears were shed.*

*If you happened to be in the East Side Apple Store this afternoon and saw someone looking on the verge of a meltdown, then you probably had a fifi sighting. When everything was said and done and I was driving home, I called the boyfriend to tell him the whole story. When I got to this point, he just sighed and was like “You were that girl, weren’t you?” Yes, indeed. Bar-related things are extremely stressful, people.

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