I had my first iPhone experience last night. Wow. It's like losing my virginity all over again. Except much more satisfying.

It was at an upscale steak house in Kansas City last night with my husband Mike and our out-of-town friend Chad, bearer of iPhone. Both had worked at Apple back in the day on the Newton, a product so ahead of its time it was a dismal failure. Of course one could argue that now more than ever is "the day" for Apple.

My first impression of the iPhone? Thrilling. Sleek and substantive. The touchscreen, which is the user interface / navigation tool, is soft. Even sensual. Vibrancy of the 3.5 inch display, amazing. Desktop icons never looked so good.

Mike and Chad had been goofing around with iPhone before I met them at the steakhoue. I approached their table. Mike stands, snaps my photo, turns the display toward me. Gently flicking his thumb and index finger apart against the screen, Mike demonstrates the zoom feature, instantly endowing me, a 36B in real life, with a C cup. (Not exactly. Zoom magnifies images proportionately. In this case, my chest filled the screen. But you can bet that this particular two-finger salute is a hit with men everywhere. Prediction: video will surface on YouTube any time now that spoofs in new and imaginative ways the satisfying flicking, stroking and two-finger zoom actions soon-to-become muscle memory for iPhone users.)

The keyboard threw me initially. Then I realized I could simply slide away from an incorrect key I had typed to tap the correct one. Sweet.

I was so enamored spinning through Address Book listings and basking in the brilliant yellow sun in the Weather app, I almost had forgotten this phone is also "the best iPod ever," says Apple's web site.

iPod features can wait. Why rush getting acquainted? We'll see each other again.

The boys and I pull up and zoom in on a New York Times story about Pope Benedict XVI's latest hijinks, asserting that Catholicism, unlike other Christian communities, "provides the only true path to salvation." As if that wasn't enough of a conversation starter, we were simultaneously overcome with how beautifully the article displays.

Mike and Chad lock eyes, gushing: "It's got a real web browser!"

It's true. The promise of mobile has arrived in the form of the iPhone. For a category that handcuffs their customers into loyalty instead of delighting them, it's startling. It's even a bit scary to me because iPhone actually does make it enjoyable to watch video anywhere, any time. A mixed blessing, no doubt, for which I can argue many sides.

In my opinion, people have no business surfing the Internet or watching video in an upscale steakhouse where. (I know, as an occasional solo diner I suppose it wouldn't be the worst thing.) Still, I avoid restaurants with video screens because, regardless of what's showing, my eyes can't help but wander to the electronic images. My attention is distracted away from my dining companion(s). Restaurants should be a sanctuary for face-to-face interpersonal interaction and high baud rate of communication in the form of conversation.

Hypocritically, Chad shared this hilarious video with us in the restaurant and I loved seeing it instantly.

We're nearly closing the place.  Diners at an adjacent table stop at ours on their way out.  "Is that what I think it is?"

"Yeah," I said. "You need to hold it."  They gather around man who takes it in his hand, sighing. Feeling accomplished, smart, even sexy, I show them how to elegantly unlock the iPhone then take them out for a spin in Address Book. They are mesmerized.

"As we used to say in the toy industry," I offer, "It's magic!"

iPhone returns and is set aside. Dinner conversation with Mike and Chad moves toward the TED Conference. Specifically, the nature of choice and why more choice often leads to less happiness. Fascinating stuff. We trade ideas.

Meanwhile my mind wanders. I'm a minimalist consumer. Especially with gadgets. I resisted buying a carrot pealer for a while because it's a job a knife can do. Yet I'm taken with the iPhone. It had me at the home screen. Silently, I bargain with myself: Our household really should have an iPhone. Mike's a business and tech guy. This thing would bring him great joy. I should get him one. Yeah. And I would win some major partner points if I did. I decide he's deserving of an early present for his November birthday. I wonder how long it will be until my iPod dies....

This morning, I find myself anticipating our next encounter. Where will I see iPhone next? A coffee shop. Maybe someone will let me touch theirs? I think I'm in love.