I don't like listening to music on my phone. Battery power is a precious thing and I need to conserve it for important stuff like taking phone calls or checking bus times or catching another Rattata. I bought an iPad a few years ago intending to use it to store all my music, only to discover when I plugged it into my old laptop that their operating systems weren't compatible. So, for nearly a decade, I've used an old iPod touch, dreading the day it finally stopped working.

That day came two weeks ago when, one morning, I turned it on only to be confronted by a blank, grey screen. I waited a moment, hoping it would resolve into the picture I took of GaudÍ sculptures a few years ago that had been my background ever since, but to no avail. I plugged my headphones in, hoping against hope, and was surprised when the Kanye West album I'd been listening to pre-gray screen played normally. It wasn't necessarily what I wanted to listen to on my commute, but it gave me hope that my iPod might still fix itself. It did for a brief time and I picked a different album that I knew I could tolerate hearing over and over until I had the time to make it to the Apple Store and buy a new iPod (Frankie Reyes's 'Boleros Valses y Màs,' in case you were wondering).

When I first arrived at the Apple Store the other day, I wandered around the store thinking I'd be able to find the iPods without the help of one of the many Geniuses milling about. I was wrong. I eventually approached a Genius, asked if he could direct me to the iPods and then repeated that, yes, I was looking to buy an iPod when he incredulously asked if he'd heard my request correctly. He then led me to where they had been ghettoized in the back of the store and pointed to the small, sad cluster of iPods in a glass case–like some museum exhibit–hidden behind a bank of iPhones. I picked out a red, 64 gigabyte iPod and asked if I'd have to use the new AirPods, to which he laughingly responded with a simple, "no."

As we waited for my new iPod to be brought from the storeroom, I asked what the procedure was to return the old one. After the initial shock of seeing a device so old still out in the wild, the Genius informed me that while they had a recycling program, I could easily sell it online because there are some desperately sad losers collectors who buy old Apple devices. With the weariness of someone twice my age, I told him that I really didn't need another project and I wanted to get the device out of my life as quickly and easily as possible.

My brand new red iPod eventually appeared and I tore into the box as the Genius went off to find the slip of paper I had to sign in order to return the old one. Now, every other time I've taken a new Apple device out of the package, I can turn it on right away, but that wasn't the case here. I asked the Genius if something might be wrong with the iPod when he returned (sans paper) and he said that while the iPod should have come with some level of charge, it had probably been sitting in the warehouse so long that the battery had run down. Turns out, he was right. I placed the iPod on a nearby charging doc–right in front of the museum display of iPods as if to taunt them–and then waited a full 10 minutes for the iPod to bring up that "please charge me/Feed Me Seymour" screen and another 10 minutes for it to actually turn on.

I took the opportunity to use the Apple Store wi-fi to download some music and an audio book for my commute home and then politely asked the Genius why it was taking so long to locate one slip of paper. He, suddenly remembering I existed, apologized, disappeared yet again and then produced the necessary document a few minutes later. I had already purchased the new iPod by this point, so, it was slightly annoying when the Genius realized while reading the document that returning my old iPod to the store entitled me to a 10% discount on a new iPod. Now, even though it's 2016 and we all carry some of the most advanced computers in history around in our pockets, the Genius couldn't simply refund me the balance of the discount. Instead, he had to refund the full price and then recharge me the discounted price.

Finally, after buying my new iPod a second time, I was ready to take it out into the world and enjoy it for years to come. However, before I could, some entitled Williamsburg child stepped in the middle of my conversation with the Genius, ripped my new iPod off the charging station and proceeded to scream something across the room until I calmly and firmly pointed out his mistake and plucked my iPod from his hand. He ran off looking momentarily chastened, but was back to displaying his parent's failures within moments.

Still, despite our rocky beginning, my new iPod and I are getting along fine. We've listened to a terrible audiobook together, some podcasts and Gallant's "Ology" at least half a dozen times. I love it, but every time I turn it on, I get a little sad. If I learned anything from my buying experience, it's that iPods will definitely be extinct in a few years. On some level, that's probably a good thing. I can't argue with the efficiency of having one device that does everything. But the iPod revolutionized the way people listen to music and there's something a little tragic in watching it die a slow, quiet death. Perhaps, if they're lucky, iPods will benefit from the same nostalgia-fueled sense of superiority that convinced people to start buying vinyl again. I'd support that.