I Saw the Nexus One… I Failed

Nexus OneIf all you’re looking for is a picture of the phone, you might as well stop reading right now, because that’s the part I failed at. If you’re interested in a story about how I saw the world’s hottest, unreleased, phone that may change the way we do mobile, please read on.

While minding my own business on the E train this morning (that’s in NY, by the way), I saw a guy playing with his iPhone. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, I looked away and continued bobbing my head to the unbelievable sounds of A.F.I.’s Crash Love. A minute or two later, my eyes made their way back to this gentleman’s hands, where I was shocked to now see a sexy, sleek, extremely thin, Nexus One. It was the most beautiful piece of hardware I had ever seen. It made his iPhone look like an oversized brick. The trackball was tiny (in a good way), and the touch-sensitive buttons seemed minuscule in comparison to the large and beautiful screen. Unfortunately, I was too overwhelmed to analyze the phone before screwing up my photo op, but I can say this… It looks a million times better in person.

Here’s how it went down… Instead of composing myself, pulling out my phone, and snapping a picture, I, idiotically, acted like a little girl who just saw her favorite actress. I immediately turned to the guy and said, “Is that the Nexus One?” To which he responded, with a large grin, “No.” I began questioning, “C’mon man, I know it’s the Nexus One.” He then proceeded to put the phone back into his pocket, said “No comment,” and left me feeling like the biggest idiot of the century. I had just missed a golden opportunity to snap a photo of the unreleased Google Phone that the entire world is busy scratching their heads over.

This could not be the end! I would not back down! I refused to go down in history as the dude who missed the picture of Nexus One. I got a seat right in front of him and, once again, began asking him questions. “Look, I respect the fact that you aren’t supposed to admit you have the phone, hence the reason I didn’t snap a picture of you,” (clearly not the case), “but can you at least tell me if you like it?” Once again, “No comment,” with an oversized grin. I began once more, “I guess Google really wants to keep details hush hush, don’t they?” Finally, some insight, “Yeah, they do,” he responded with another smile. “That must mean there’s some sort of surprise about it that they don’t want people to know yet.” To which I got another smile.

It was the last smile that made my day. Could Google be swearing people to secrecy for a reason unknown to the masses? Could the phone actually operate, VoIP only, if one wanted to use it that way? A lot of pictures of the phone show it out of service but using Wi-Fi, so who knows? Could those dogfooding it be privy to an even newer version of Android that adds even more functionality to an already incredible platform? So many questions are flying through my head. I just can’t help but kick myself for handling the situation in such a foolish way. Maybe I’ll try getting on the same train tomorrow in some sort of disguise, in hopes that I see the mystery man once more.

Oh, but I did grow a pair by the end of my ride. I borrowed a pen and wrote my name and email address on a small sheet of paper. As I walked out of the subway car, I turned to the guy, handed him the paper, and apologized for bothering him. I told him I write for AndroidGuys, and asked that he contact me if and when he’s allowed to speak about the phone. I said I’d love to interview him. He seemed receptive; but more likely, he was just being polite.

My fingers are crossed. I hope you can all forgive me for not getting a picture. I will never make that mistake again! I will tackle the guy and pry the phone from his scrawny little fingers if I must. Not really, but it just goes to show you how committed I am to rectifying my failed encounter. Oh man, I’m so excited for this phone. T-Mobile‘s service better not blow.

TO THE MYSTERY MAN ON THE ‘E’ TRAIN: If, by some chance, you’re reading this, know that I wish you well in the dogfooding process and envy you with the passion of a thousand passion fruits (hey, that’s a lotta passion). You are a strong individual for not succumbing to my coercion, but I ask that you please grant me an anonymous interview. You may contact me via twitter @dailyharangue (fakers, don’t waste your time, I’ll require proof), or email me at the address I gave you (that’s your best bet). The world wants to hear from you, and I’d greatly appreciate your time. Either way, thank you for making my day.