Here I am, once again

I’m torn into pieces

Can’t deny it, can’t pretend

Just thought you were the one

Broken up, deep inside

But you won’t get to see the tears I cry

Behind these hazel eyes

– Kelly Clarkson, “Behind These Hazel Eyes,” 2004

It’s not easy being me. I haven’t had a full eight hours of sleep since Ewan McGregor was Obi-Wan Kenobi, or, as I like to call them, “The glory days.”

My name is Reed Higgins, and I am the last Zune salesman.

The Higgins name has always been synonymous with the art of the sale. My father is the owner of the Redbox franchise — when I was 11, he sold me “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: The Secret of the Ooze” for $39. Ever since then, I’ve been obsessed with giving people things they don’t really want at a price they are not willing to pay for.

I sold my first Zune in 2006 to an 86-year-old nurse named Dolores. She didn’t have a driver’s license, but by all means she wanted a Zune. She said it reminded her of her great-granddaughter “Zine,” the product of her grandson’s obsession with ’90s pop culture and bad decisions. I still remember the feeling of receiving a $250 traveler’s check from her lotion-filled, wrinkly hands and thinking that no other woman would ever satisfy me in this way.

But things started to change — Dolores passed — and people were beginning to demand functional products they actually wanted. And like the postal service at a house that was foreclosed, Microsoft was not delivering.

The first-generation product allowed you to share songs with other users wirelessly, which can then be played three times over three days. I could see the challenge growing.

Then we moved to generation two. It was shaped like a squircle, which sounds like an off-brand Pokémon.

The third generation introduced the ability for Zune Pass members to download 10 songs per month along with streaming, which in most cases isn’t even a full album. I knew things would never be the same when Microsoft served up their big kahuna: 21 playlists offered on United Airlines flights based on genres that had previously only existed on the Zune marketplace. All this, plus you already had built-in content from Wisin & Yandel, BT, The Thermals, Paul Oakenfold and CSS. The freaking Thermals.

And yet I continued to travel, Zunes in hand, door to door, preaching my mission. I couldn’t let go of that feeling Dolores gave me all those years ago. If you were a Zune salesman, you’d understand.

Each sale I made had this weight to it. Every Zune felt a bit heavier than the last — each sale a bigger and better heist. I could tell the customers not only wanted to give me their money, they wanted to have sex with me. An experienced salesman uses the art of seduction to his advantage, just as my father taught me: “Seduce them until they want to give you the last four digits of their social security number, and right before they tell you … leave.”

It was Oct. 3, 2011, and things had been going well. I was up date with all the “Fast and the Furious” movies, and the past three years had served the Zune game well. I even had bonus miles on my United Airlines rewards card.

And then it happened. With a single SMS message to my cracked THC Thunderbolt, my metaphorical Windows Vista crashed: all Zune hardware had been discontinued.

What was I to do? I was still 4,500 Zunes from receiving a hand-written letter from Kurt DelBene, then president of the Microsoft Office division. I wasn’t finished, I still had 2,000 Zunes left in my apartment that I had bought with money I didn’t have. The Zune was my ticket out. It still is.

So, if you see a man in a checkered navy suit in your local diner eating cold oatmeal with a side of sugar-free maple syrup, give him a nod and maybe a moment of your time. That man is the hardest working Zune salesman this side of the Mississippi. God bless you, God bless this great country and God bless the Microsoft Zune.

Danny Cuneo is a senior television, radio and film major. He owns Apple stuff, but isn’t just another cog in the machine, you guys. He can be reached at dacuneo@syr.edu.

Published on March 29, 2016 at 8:17 pm