What an advocate looks like
“Excuse me,” the man said.
I was pecking at my laptop in a Jacksonville Starbucks, earbuds in. I looked up.
“I’m sorry to bother you. I just have one question and then I’ll let you get back to work.”
Maybe it’s because I was in the South (and being in north Florida, Jacksonville actually is the South; most of the chatter I heard in that Starbucks that morning had a drawl), or maybe it was just being approached in a public place, but when this stranger interrupted me and said he wanted to ask me “just one question,” I mentally prepared myself for an invitation to a non-denominational church.
Instead, he asked me this:
“How do you like your Mac?”
In retrospect, I should have known that was coming.
I’ve been a Mac user since 2004, and I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve been asked that very question.
The question is never asked by a fellow Mac user, mind you — Mac people already know the answer. Instead, it’s asked by Windows users, who are either wondering whether there’s substance behind the hype, or who are already creeping toward making the switch and looking for reinforcement.
And every time this scene plays out, I become a Mac advocate.
I love my Mac, so being an advocate is easy. I tell the inquirer of my love — how long ago I switched, how happy I’ve been, that I’ll never go back. The inquirer nods in agreement, one step closer to joining the cult.
Apple never asked me to be an advocate, yet there I am, doing their most vital marketing work on a regular basis. I do this work gladly, because I genuinely love my Mac. And Apple has made it easy for me to be an advocate, because they tell a coherent, consistent story about Macs — a story about thoughtful, intuitive, and elegant design, and how that leads to a simplicity and ease of use that inspires both empowerment and joy — that advocates like me can easily share.
And though I am a total stranger to these people who randomly approach me in coffee shops — I could be criminally deranged for all they know — they want to know what I think, because I’m a real person, like them.
In other words, they can hear it from Justin Long and John Hodgman ad nauseaum, but if they hear the exact same thing from me, a stranger in a Starbucks, it means more.
That’s why when you see somebody pecking away at a Mac in a Starbucks, odds are, they’re an advocate, too. Just ask.
:: Posted by Eric Ratinoff ::
