It was hard to think of any wage-earning labor I’d done without that computer. Even the in-person drawing classes or talks I’d given had involved slideshows and handouts I’d made on my laptop, as well as emails and Zoom calls beforehand. I guessed I’d earned half a million dollars on my computer over 10 years.
Still, I slid it across the counter. The brushed metal was pristine, the shiny Apple logo as unmarked as the day I bought it. The man looked it over, inspecting the underside and the vents, opening it up to check the display. He offered me 200 pounds.
I wondered if I could make more on eBay, Craigslist, or a buyback site. Would Apple accept it for refurbishment? Was my computer in “great” or “fair” cosmetic condition? How many battery cycles had it accumulated over the years? Had I paid for any special features—extra RAM, a superior graphics card? Was there another kiosk down the street?
