Airpods, Welcome to Your Tape

By Kimiya Aframian and Michael VigmanIt all started in December 2016 when Apple first released their Airpods. At first, it wasn’t a big deal, only NoMo kids had them. But then Christmas 2018 rolled around and everyone had them...everyone but me. They had become inescapable and now a new brand of elitism had been cultivated. Before it was Old Navy vs. Gucci, now it is wired vs. wireless. Barely a week ago, I walked into my history class early and faced pure, abject judgement of my default Apple earbuds. That basic b*tch Brittney glanced up at me with a bourgeoisie smirk that reeked of pretentious pettiness. On the way out she brushed past me and muttered “peasant.”It gets worse though. My best friend from kindergarten, Tiffany, stopped talking to me the day she got her Airpods: Dec. 27, not Christmas but her birthday. She didn’t want to associate with anyone that had wired earbuds, her final text reading “I don’t speak broke.” All this began to weigh on my mind. I skipped lunch, failed a quiz, got cut from the soccer team and worst of all, lost the only popular crush that had ever talked to me: Brad. It was a subtle action, but I got the memo. I simply waved to him during passing period and was expecting to get the usual head tilt and smile in return, but instead he side-eyed me. I walked further down the hall and realized that he was sharing AIRPODS with another girl. That Friday night, I went home and vented to my mom about all the troubles I’d faced by not having Airpods. She didn’t see the significance of my dilemma. “They look so stupid, like someone stuffed q-tips in their ears. They’ll rot your brain out anyways.”  Why couldn’t she see the obvious danger that my drop on the social ladder had brought me? I was nearing rock bottom at that moment, right alongside the kooky mathletes and awkward chemists. I had two days to get my act together before facing the peanut gallery again on Monday.While procrastinating my biology project over the weekend, I overnight-shipped a cheap pair of look-alike airpods. The only caveat? The casing was noticeably large and featured an ugly logo. I figured as long as I hid the case, no one would notice my trick. Monday morning arrived, the “airpods” went in, casing hidden away in my pocket: I was ready to take back my place in the high school social hierarchy. Everything was going according to plan and no one noticed my deception. Tiffany even pulled that stick out of her a$$ and complimented me on my “Airpods.” “Welcome,” she said; she didn’t suspect a thing. I’d made it through the day, but it was all too good to be true. While shoving my Spanish text into my locker, I dropped my pencil pouch and the knockoff earbud case slid out of my pocket and onto the hallway floor with a clatter. I quickly picked it up and stuffed it out of view, but it was too late. Everyone had already seen that I was a fake. Before I could even be embarrassed, Brittney was there slamming my head into the locker wall, pinning me. She deftly plucked my fake airpods from my ears with a Grinch-like smile, as if she’d practiced the move a thousand times. I watched helplessly as she handed them to her posse who crushed them with their Yeezys. All I could hear was Brad’s voice echoing through the hallway, “You Go Glen-Coco!” he chanted to Brittney.There was nothing left for me. I could only imagine the endless ridicule I’d have to bear the following day and every day after for the rest of my life. I couldn’t take it anymore. I grabbed pair of scissors from my desk and set my Apple earbuds before me. Eyes closed, all I could hear was the soft snip of plastic at first, then splitting copper wire. I don’t deserve to listen to music ever again. This is the story of how I murdered my earbuds.