I know, I think it is some sort of hip ’60s place for cool guys to live in, probably split level and open plan. Maybe Chelsea or possibly off Wardour St. Yes, on occasions an iPad would be a great place to crash out but who needs a home when there is a life to be had?

Well I’ve just been to the Apple shop in Exeter, you know, the place with the impromptu Post Office style queuing area outside? All the more incongruous for it’s lack of waiting people other than the gaggle of previously imprinted pensioners with their paperwork at the ready.

A sudden moment of awkwardness as I attempt to enter the shop, is it invitation only? Oh god, the public shame of not being invited again. From the door, in spite of the “T-shirted One’s” interjection, I could see my quarry, the iPad. There was one free, it was mine to iNvestigate.
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