AirPods. The height of luxury. With a sleek look and stellar sound quality, AirPods command attention from everyone around them. No longer do you have to struggle to untangle your wires, or run around with Beats looking like a DJ. Now you can flick open your AirPods case and instantly hear your favorite song. The mere act of putting in an AirPod boosts your confidence by 200 percent. As Clara Barton once said, “putting in my AirPods gives me even more joy than saving people on the battlefield and working for the Red Cross, combined.”
When I bought AirPods, I instantly became untouchable. Nothing could harm me. I became immune to Norovirus and the plague. Obama called to congratulate me. Violence stopped in the streets when I walked by with my AirPods in. Beyonce even wrote a song about me.
But there was one thing AirPods failed to give me. Humility. So without further ado, here is my formal apology for being an obnoxious AirPods owner:
I’m sorry I didn’t talk to people with wires.
I’m sorry I implied I was going to Heaven because I own AirPods.
I’m sorry I said I can’t hear you over my AirPods.
I’m sorry I put in my AirPods to avoid having conversations.
I’m sorry I said I want to be buried in my AirPods.
I’m sorry I walked through every dorm on campus with my AirPods in to make sure you all knew I owned them.
I’m sorry I said I was better than Gandhi because he didn’t own AirPods.
And finally, I’m sorry I told my mom I wouldn’t speak to her until she got AirPods.
I wasn’t ready for the power that Airpods gave me and, for that, I am truly sorry for the way I’ve treated you non-Airpods owners.
Peace and blessings.