Mr. Jobs, my apologies, I didn't mean to interrupt you at home. I mean, obviously I did because I knocked at your door, but, you know—wait, were you watching So You Think You Can Dance?
THAT'S MY FAVORITE SHOW TOO!! WHY ISN'T IT ON ITUNES??
Sorry for shouting. I won't do that again. I'll try not to spit, either, but I can make no promises there. I mean, I'll most certainly make earnest attempts, but I really don't want to mislead you. My saliva is not something that I can wield with 100% proficiency, and I want this meeting to be built on trust. Mutual trust.
Anyway, my reason for showing at your door. Frankly, I wanted to know what your house smelled like. No, that's not my primary reason for being here. I view it as a sort of side quest that justified a face-to-face meeting rather than a more conventional email. And no, it's not nearly as creepy as your face is implying. My inquiry was a point of academic interest. Everyone's house smells different, an amalgamation of personal scent, furniture, general upkeep, pets and preference for food. And let me just say, I thought it'd smell like this. You know, kind of blue. Yes, I know blue is a color. I guess I mean, fresh, clean, but maybe even a bit sterile. Not in a bad way, mind you. And the hint of tempeh in the air is really quite welcoming.
OK, OK, I realize that I've gone on for a while here, and at any second, Nigel Lythgoe is going to unpause on your DVR and it's going to sound really loud because both our ears have adjusted to the room's noise without a television blaring—no Apple TV, btw? But that's neither here nor there. My pitch is this:
Sell every iPhone with an accompanying Arduino tank. Like this one. Boom.