Was the All-Night iPhone 5S Line Worth the Wait?

It is perhaps the greatest pedestrian rubbernecking opportunity in the world — the annual line for the new iPhone. But for those of us in the actual line, it often can feel more like being in a zoo.

For the first time in a number of years, I took my place on the primary iPhone queue, the one at New York City's flagship glass cube store on Fifth Avenue across the street from the Plaza Hotel. I showed up at 2:30 a.m., after my weekly Thursday night poker game petered out. (I won $65.)

And sitting on my collapsible director's chair (complete with cup holder in the right arm rest) on West 58th St. around 300 spots from the front of the line in the middle of the night I felt distinctly like an idiot.

Y R U Here?

So why was I waiting on this line? Excellent question, one posed by several cab and truck drivers who rolled down their windows to ask for actual information, and one from a local Fox reporter intended to elicit rationale. "Anyone want to answer?" she pleaded, seeking a philosophic sound bite. Everyone looked embarrassingly around at each other, but no one had an answer for her other than a look of ponder on everyone's face. Yeah, why are we here?

Some rubbernecking passers-by mocked us with looks of disdain, some with bemused amazement, others by either genuine or cynical puzzlement, most the typical New Yorker fast-walking "nothin' to see here" non-acknowledgement (but secretly wanting to look). A few folks strolled by and recorded us on video, many with their phones held in portrait instead of landscape mode. I made deer-in-the-headlights looks into as many as I could.

The ridiculousness of our situation was hammered home by a bicyclist who rode up and sarcastically shouted "Are you excited about your new phone?!" a half dozen times before riding off with his consumer superiority intact.

My own reasons for pulling this marathon were rather pedantic. I needed an iPhone 5S for my own testing and coverage of the device. That simple, really.

The last couple of years, Apple allowed online pre-ordering. I, along with other early orderers, was FedEx'ed my new iPhone on Day One without leaving my apartment.

This year, however, Apple reverted back to its original first-come/first-serve store-only sales, prompting everyone's all-nighter on the sidewalks of New York. While exceptionally annoying (and body clock disrupting), I think I know why Apple decided against online ordering.

iLines

First, consider the logistics — millions of iPhones to package and FedEx and track. Who needs that headache?

Then, along with the annual iPhone lines, came annual activation headaches. It seemed everyone tried to activate their new phones from home all at the same time, triggering massive server problems. And these massive server problems triggered massive negative media coverage that over-shadowed Apple's "have you seen the lines at the box office!" glee and the attributes of the new iPhone itself.

With all iPhones more controllably activated in the store, Apple figured there'd be fewer server headaches. So far, so good.

One perhaps intended consequence was to actually bolster the lines. Apple may have realized the iPhone 5S isn't as exciting an iPhone entry as the 5 was and, therefore, might not have generated the kinds of multi-block lines that make headlines. With no online orders, if you wanted a phone Day One, you had to go to a store, which would create misleadingly longer lines.

I wasn't on the 5 line last year, so it's hard for me to compare last year's queue to this year's. But when I climbed out of the store around 9:15 a.m. clutching my treasure, the line outside still snaked nearly completely around the block.

Dull, Dull, Deadly Dull

What I do remember from my first few all-nighters in 2008 and 2009 camped out on West 58th St. was the joyous, anticipatory, spontaneous carnival atmosphere. Nearly from the moment I arrived, there were numerous hawkers of wares associated with the iPhone, loaded with free stuff like water or hot coffee while they pitched their captive sleepless audience on their goods and services.

This year, not so much.

Gazelle, the folks who'll buy your old iPhone and other electronics, passed out chocolate-covered pretzels (yuck) then orange t-shirts. Some guy was handing out cards pushing a "community" app called Yello (but I don't think it's this one). As dawn broke, another buy-used-electronics outfit, BuyBackWorld, handed out rubber ball world globes and lime green sacks emblazoned with the punny "I sold my iPhone green!", DIY iPhone repair/teardown company iFixit handed out tiny tools, and a mobile gear insurance company called Bubble handed out business cards with a peel-off one-inch-square screen wipe.

These opportunists were soon joined by the media hordes including the Today Show's Carson Daly and other well-manicured broadcast used car salesmen seeking interviews. I made deer-in-the-headlights looks into as many panning TV cameraman as I could.

The whole experience felt less joyous, spontaneous and anticipatory and more like stick a hanger in your mouth to keep that smile on your face to counter the "here we go again" resignation.

Psst! Wanna Buy an iPhone 5S?

I sensed a different customer make-up as well. In the early iPhone line years, the crowd was made up of young geeks genuinely excited about getting their hands on a revolutionary new gadget.

This year? Without getting politically and racially incorrect, the line was pockmarked by what seemed less like unlikely geeks and more like foreign resale opportunists, many older Asian women seemingly all dressed up in Abercrombie & Fitch sweats. This suspicion was somewhat confirmed when I finally got to the counter and the lovely Nina brought me two phones. "Oh, I thought you asked for two!" I had made no such request, but even at that early stage, her sales muscle memory had already kicked in. I also was shocked by how many people paid in cash. Good thing Bonnie & Clyde are gone.

One thing that hasn't changed is the whipped-up cult-like enthusiasm of the blue T-shirted Apple employees, high-fiving and cheering each group of 20 patrons allowed to descend down the store's translucent spiral staircase — where we once again stood on a snaking line. I almost told one of the acolytes that all I wanted was a USB cable, but realized I just didn't have the energy.

Right now, I'm too tired to be disappointed in either the experience and in not scoring a gold-colored model, which sold out nearly instantaneously and now reportedly won't be available until next month. Maybe if next year's iPhone 6 is equipped with a 4.5- or 5-inch screen, NFC, 802.11ac "gigabit" Wi-Fi and some "one more thing" that stuns and excites geekdom, we'll be able to express why we waited on line all night.

Eh, it could have been worse. It could have rained.

Images: Mashable, Stewart Wolpin