The infamous green bubble-my personal Scarlet Letter-is just the tip of the iceberg. Meanwhile, I sat on the sidelines, stewing over all of the bad travel ideas that were surely going unchallenged.īefore the world’s iOS junkies impulsively take my friends’ side, let me make it clear that I know the communication lines between Androids and iPhones are needlessly janky iMessage, the software that comes preloaded on Apple products that allows users to text within the confines of a sleek interface, in a stream of chatty discourse that constantly updates across all their Apple devices, completely implodes when it tries to reach a smartphone outside of the Jobs Network. My friends organized the flights to Porto, the trains to Lisbon, the dimensions of the Airbnbs, and the parameters of the millennial-mandated wine tour without me. Not anymore, baby! Apparently we stopped being nice and started getting real. But I was led to believe that the distaste and (I’ll say it!) discrimination toward us Apple agnostics was mostly a goodhearted, tongue-in-cheek meme. Yes, I had caught wind of anti-Android biases in the past, most of which amounted to facile complaints about bubble color schemes. Apparently, in a covert sidebar that I was not privy to, the rest of my vacationing crew concurred that due to the various asymmetries inherent to Apple-to-Samsung transmission-the ultragrainy videos, the needlessly wordy translations of emoji reactions, the inability to add a cute, punny title to the thread, and yes, the dreaded Green Bubble-I would be excised from the central scheduling committee, which effectively relegated me to the powerless status of, like, Montenegro at the United Nations. Why was I rejected? Because I am a lifelong Android user, while everyone else in my orbit is a steadfast, uncompromising iPhone owner.
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