These are the very first key strokes on my hot new iMac. I am now just about fully Appled-up. 

I didn't plan it this way and was pretty determined not to go Mac when it came time to burying my clunky laptop that had served valiantly for half a decade.

My key criteria for this new purchase were functionality and price. I was also determined to support the products of the country in which I live.

Surely advances and innovations of standard PCs have been shared rather evenly between well-established manufactures, I thought. A desktop is no breakthrough, must-have item like my iPad and iPhone. I was only after an updated, fancier tool.

Pretty much the deciding factor in jumping far over budget was the terrible sales pitches I met at four Beijing computer shops.

While all the sales people had some geek-like knowledge of computer systems, their lame attempts to hustle me were immediate turnoffs.

At every shop a key selling point was the installation of free pirated software, which made me think perhaps the PCs were also fake.

The closer I got to making a final decision the more suspicious I became. My final questions about add-ons and warranty sent the salesclerk into a whispered huddle with the boss.

At my first stop, a flagship store for Lenovo, the soon-to-be world's largest maker of PCs, the young clerk in a dirty shirt just about fudged or fumbled every question. 

I had done online research and knew the models I wanted to test drive. I liked one in particular and started to feel like I was about to adopt the puppy in the window.

The bubble burst when the kid fetched a box from the storeroom that contained a slightly different model that cost an extra 300 yuan ($48.2).

The packing slip on the dented container that had been previously opened showed that it was not as decked out as the less expensive floor model.  I'm not sure who he thought he was kidding. So close, yet so far.

The next stop was Beijing's famous electronics mall downtown, where, after a few steps inside the front door, I was hustled to an upstairs kiosk.

The lead sales guy wore sagging, drawstring track pants that inappropriately allowed everything to dangle to and fro. 

He showed me a slightly different all-in-one PC, but it wasn't set up yet. An underling was sent to fetch a keyboard and mouse, and the monitor was moved to an electric outlet. When the errand boy returned without the keyboard, I knew it was time to make excuses.

My research had included a trip the week before to the bustling, overcrowded circus that is the Apple store.

The near frenzied atmosphere and the sophistication of the machine I am now writing on seemed to scoff at my wallet. I left before I turned green.

Now driving home disappointed and empty-handed, the car in the next lane left just enough room for an abrupt and spontaneous right turn that led me back to the Apple store. I felt forces beyond my control pulling me in for a second look.

To suggest the machine sold itself is not the whole story. The entirely transparent, no-funny-stuff, it-is-what-it-is honesty nailed the sale that burst my budget.

While I immediately fell in love with this puppy, it was not all sweetness and light. After handing over the bankcard the slimy "up selling" kicked in at precisely the well-trained moment. 

An extra two years warranty, for almost an additional 20 percent would give me piece of mind. I had to decline the offer five times and the pestering only stopped when I suggested that perhaps the product was not that well made after all.

So here I am writing an epilog on the slick, superbly designed, do-just-about anything machine. Dealing with my first Mac software experience has had the learning curve of a Shenzhou rocket.

Some of the differences are confounding. The trackpad is infuriatingly oversensitive and how is it that I'm staring at a high-definition, 23-inch screen and the text in some applications remains the size of one of my chewed off fingernails?

There's now a veritable orchard of Apple products in the house. Part of the appeal, I've realized is the sales pitch and the big-top, extravagant store.

Even the ritual opening of the precisely designed packaging, is done with the flamboyance of a rabbit being pulled out of a hat. It all belies a sense of superiority that somehow rubs off and helps account for the arrogance of Apple owners. 

Equally priced Chinese-brand computers surely have many nice bells and whistles but they lag far behind when it comes to making adoption of their products seem a little like magic.

The author is a copy editor with the Global Times. billsiggins@globaltimes.com.cn