I decided to go directly to my nearest Apple store, only to be told in no uncertain terms by the assistant, "no appointment, no support".

After explaining the urgency of the situation to a staff member there, I was given hope: I could wait to see if any bookings become suddenly available if another "patient" failed to show up.

Three hours dragged by. I found myself pacing alongside other desperate owners.

There were the topless tattoo guy, the mother with the noisy child, the office worker worried about being absent from work.

Worry was etched on all of our faces. At one point I feared public disorder when an appointment opened up, only to be filled.

I started to get hungry, but I certainly couldn't walk away for food.

And maybe worst of all, I had to put on a smiley face to check with the Geniuses, every five minutes, what my chances were of becoming "the lucky one".

I comforted myself, that at least I was there. I lived in a city where the Geniuses were close-by. There was at least a chance, albeit a faint one, that mine would be seen.

I found my heart going out to all those poor souls who can't come here and take part in such a vigil. There must be so many more, I thought－Apple customers who live in cities where there are no Genius Bars to wait in line for help.

Apparently, the Genius Bar is generally equipped with a dozen tech experts, but I soon realized even that number was clearly failing to meet the demands of these "patients".

These hard-to-get appointments, I also discovered, have even sparked a new business on Taobao, where slots are now being sold for between 10 yuan ($1.57) and 50 yuan.

At this stage I would happily have spent much more.

I was finally seen that day. I was told the battery was a gonner. I would need to wait three days, for a replacement phone.