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You know, I never wanted a computer. My husband said, "We really need one it’s the wave of the future." I replied, "Oh, another technological monster to dust." I figured it would sit amongst the other techno junk we couldn’t operate. You know, like the VCR that only requires you to push one button to record all your favorite T.V. shows. Of course, that’s after reading a four-inch thick manual telling you how to set the VCR up, so it can become that easy. Yeah right! I can’t get past page three. How about that great digital camera! You know, the one I can’t find anymore. It never really worked well anyway. But I digress, back to the computer.
My husband is an engineer, so you know he had to research this for another six months before actually purchasing one. When the big day finally arrived, my husband was thrilled; he immediately proceeded to hook everything up. His joy soon turned to exasperation. He pulled his hair, and cussed, using words a drunken sailor wouldn’t know. I grew amazed, as the phone became a permanent attachment to his ear. Should have known then that this monster was going to take over our lives. After six hours of tech support, (five hours spent just trying to reach tech support) the computer was up and running. Wow, this is great! But what do I do with it, which led hubby to complain, "I just spent a fortune on this %$#% thing, you better use it." Ah ha, I just discovered a T.V. series called Highlander; let’s try a web search on that. We discovered hundreds of sites; "This is going to be wonderful," I said. Hubby scratched his head and said, "That’s an interesting way to use a major piece of technology."
Two weeks later. Hubby said, "What the heck do you do down there! (The basement, where the computer resides.) I never see you anymore." I replied, "I’m using the computer that you just spent a %$#% fortune on!" He replied, "But I still need to eat, and have clean clothes for work." I replied, "I’ll get to it."
Another two weeks pass.
Oops, the Java Script is damaged. Time to reinstall. Not too bad, I only required minor surgery to get the phone removed from my ear after many, many hours speaking to tech support. (Most of those hours spent waiting to reach tech support!)
O.K., we’re back in business, I even managed to do some laundry, iron, and cook some meals. Then my world ended. The monitor died! Back to tech support with my new surgically crafted ear. I wasn’t too happy with the news, I had to return the monitor, and wait till they sent a new one. First there was the indignant rage; I have to spend sixty dollars to return a new monitor! (Which was still under warrantee.) Yup, that’s the way it goes, they send you a bad product and you pay to return it. Next came the fear, what will I do till it’s returned? I knew then I was in trouble; my hands trembled as I was repacking my wonderful nineteen-inch monitor for return. I started sweating when I called UPS to pick it up. Day one sans computer: I couldn’t eat, sleep or concentrate. Day two: I walked around slamming doors and muttering to myself. Day three: My wonderful hubby came home from work bearing a lovely fourteen-inch monitor. After explaining his situation (fear of death from a mad woman at home) his employers allowed him to borrow one from work. Day four: All was well until hubby asked to use the computer for an hour or two. My hands started sweating, a sure give away that trouble was on the horizon. Hubby, "I need to work on the computer." I thought to myself, "You want to touch my computer!" I said aloud, "How long do you think you’ll need it sweetheart?" When he replied just an hour or two I started giving him some rules. Rule one: Don’t go into my mail. Rule two: Don’t touch my documents (actually tons of pictures from Highlander.) Rule three: Don’t eat or drink while using it, if possible try not to breathe if you haven’t brushed your teeth first. After establishing all fore mentioned rules, I pulled up a chair next to him to ensure these rules were carried out.
Weeks went by in blissful cyber heaven, my monitor came home, and all was well with the world. That is until I made a new discovery.
Keeping in mind that I’m still a computer novice, when the computer asked me what I wanted to do (delete or quarantine), I of course said delete it. Big mistake! The computer deleted the virus but it also deleted the connection to my server. Uh huh, the worm had traveled right up to the cyber door of my server.
O.K. I can deal with this, "What do I have to do to get back on line", I asked my server. His reply, …………uh huh……….he spoke the dreaded words……… "Call the people you bought the computer from." My first thought was, should I make arrangements for ear surgery (again) before I call, or should I wait. After three days of speaking to numerous techno geeks, all of which suggested different things to no avail, I finally spoke to someone who said, "Wipe your computer and start over, that’s the only option you have." Well Halleluiah!!!!! Why couldn’t geek number one tell me this three days ago!
O.K. I can deal with this. I taped up my bloody ears, gathered some non-perishable food items, and sent notes to all my loved ones stating, "Do not disturb, if you do, the penalty of death will occur", fed all the pets enough to last a week, and got down to wiping and redoing the computer set-up. Twenty-four hours later I was back in computer heaven.
Everything ran smoothly for many months, and then I discover a new flash medium called Quick Time. (You needed this to view Adrian Paul’s new site.) Off I went to download this gem. Being a very up-right citizen (or not too bright) I decided to download the version you pay for. Uh huh, big mistake number two! This gem didn’t work too often, and when it did the sound was garbled and the picture jerky.
O.K. I can deal with this, and off to tech support for Quick Time. They were very courteous, and very helpful. Stating that all I had to do was uninstall this version, and then reinstall. Uh huh, big mistake number three! Quick Time uninstalled, and took my sound card driver with it. Back to tech support who once again was very courteous, and no %$#% help at all, "We can refund your money" they said. "Big deal, I want my sound card back!" I said. They replied with those dreaded words, "Call the people you bought the computer from."
O.K. I can deal with this.
After forty-eight hours with the phone glued to my ear, I still
couldn’t reach tech support, sales, or even
What do I do now! Maybe if I stay up all night and just keep hitting redial I’ll get through. NOT ON YOUR LIFE! Two weeks later, still can’t get through.
Now I’m a raving lunatic, I want to go to their corporate office and kill something, anything! (Hubby is afraid I’ll do just that.) He approaches me in stealth mode, prepared to run for his life, and states, "I have a friend at work that is a computer genius, and he can fix the sound card problem for you." By this time I was ready to let my three-year-old granddaughter have a crack at it. So I readily agree, and invite this techno genius to come right over. When he arrives this very sweet gentleman declares, "No problem, the sound card is part of your multi media platform, I’ll take out the whole platform and reinstall it." Now this sounds very reasonable, and I agree to this with tremendous thanks, and kudos for this techno wizard.
Big mistake number four! After removing the platform, this techno moron says, "Put in the disk for the multimedia drive." My reply was, "What disk. I don’t have any." Uh huh, I never received the software from the computer company. Now the computer won’t work at all. It’s a safety feature. If a drive is missing the computer won’t start. Through a red mist of rage I ask this computer genius, "O.K. now what?" in my sweetest voice. He replies, "You have to call the company you bought the computer from." I said, well I can’t put here what I said; I don’t think it would be allowed in print. In essence I said, "If I could reach the %$#%$ computer company, I wouldn’t need you, you moron!" Then my husband sat on me to allow the genius his escape, as I own four swords and I sorely wanted to use them all! (Techno geek sushi anyone?)
Three weeks later. After sneaking in a backdoor on the computer, loading Windows over the current system, (which allows you an ounce of memory) downloading several new drives, I had a system that was fairly functional. No sound, no picture capability, but I at least had e-mail, and the ability to view web pages. I figured I could operate in this mode until I was able to reach, uh huh………THE COMPANY WE BOUGHT THE COMPUTER FROM! So there I sat, bloody ears, bloodshot eyes, redial numbness of the finger, paralysis from the waist down………..yet content to a degree to be back on line. (Still trying to reach, you know who,) when hubby says, "I need to get on the computer." "Why?" I ask. He replies, "I found a URL for sound cards, I want to see if it’s the one we need." My reply, "I don’t know if that’s a good idea sweetheart, I’ve already looked for a sound card driver, and discovered they don’t make our particular card anymore." He replied, "Yeah well, this site has a list of old cards." I replied aloud, "O.K. sweetheart, but please be careful." While thinking to myself, "If he screws this up, he’s dead meat."
Big mistake number five. Sweetheart sits down to the computer, goes to the infamous URL, and discovers the site no longer exists. Now I want you to know that sweetheart is normally a very calm person. Very rarely does this man lose his temper or use foul language, until this moment! This very sweet, caring, and kind man turned into ME. (A RAVING LUNATIC!) He screamed on the top of his lungs, "How could this %$#%$#$ computer let you delete something so important………it gives you a hundred pop up boxes asking if you’re sure, when all you want to delete is a %$#%# lousy piece of mail? But when you’re destroying the whole %$#%$ computer, it doesn’t say boo!" I in my infinite wisdom said nothing. Now he starts ranting, "It can’t be gone, the %$#%$# sound card has to be here somewhere," as he’s pounding on the keyboard. I say, "Sweetheart, trust me, it’s gone, along with the whole multimedia platform, actually it’s not the card that’s gone, the driver is gone." Sweetheart looked at me. His nostrils flaring, his teeth bared, and his hands fisted. He began to sputter trying desperately to reply. His face was turning a brilliant shade of purple, and I in my infinite wisdom…left the room as fast as my paralysis from the waist down allowed.
He destroyed three weeks of work in three minutes. Unbeknown to him, I had set up the computer as a web page. (Single click instead of double click.) Therefore, when you double click an object or an item, it reads it as a command. He was going through the system checking, (only heaven knows what!) and gave the command to open all files and folders with Internet Explorer, and those files and folders also contained all the system exe. Commands. This drove the computer nuts! It had no idea what it was doing, nor did he. When he kept getting a pop up box stating that it found a new device he decided to delete it. (He hadn’t installed a new device.) Keep in mind; the computer is spewing out all kinds of junk because the command execs are all fouled up. Guess what he deleted. He deleted the modem driver, the driver that dials up the server so you can get on line. Un huh, back to square one. No computer, and can’t reach THE COMPANY WE BOUGHT IT FROM.
O.K. I can deal with this. NOT!!!
One week later. Sweetheart discovers THE COMPANY WE BOUGHT THE COMPUTER FROM has merged with another company, and all their tech support is in training in New Jersey. Uh huh, these geniuses of the corporate world have left all their customers high and dry while training new personnel. (I DON’T THINK THEY HAVE A BRAIN AMONG THEM).
Two weeks later. Still can’t reach THE COMPANY WE BOUGHT THE COMPUTER FROM. Sweetheart comes home from work and asks, "What’s for dinner?" My reply, "Ask THE COMPANY WE BOUGHT THE COMPUTER FROM!" Sweetheart replies, " I know you’re upset, and you have every right to be. But do you think I could get some clean clothes to wear?" My reply, " Ask THE COMPANY WE BOUGHT THE COMPUTER FROM." Uh huh, these seven words were all that was left of my vocabulary, and they were my only response to any statement or question.
Three weeks later. A very thin, and scruffy looking sweetheart declares, "I don’t think we’re ever going to reach THE COMPANY WE BOUGHT THE COMPUTER FROM, so why don’t you buy another one." I replied, "I found someone who can restore the old one, it will cost a fortune, but not as much as a new computer." Sweetheart replies, "No honey, you deserve the best. You pick a new one, top of the line. Just make sure you buy from the number one computer company."
Big mistake number six. We all know who the number one computer company is, right! I give their sales department a call, and ask if I can build my own computer. They of course replied I could. The salesman was wonderful, granting each and every request. The salesman’s only question was, why I would want a zip drive, when I was already getting a CD burner? I explained that all my work documents, (and more important, my Highlander pictures) were all on zips. He even discussed Highlander with me, and was so sympathetic of my need to get to my documents and get back to work, (and of course play.) He fully understood why I needed a zip; he even helped me upgrade my video and sound card to accommodate my Highlander pictures, sights, and sounds. He also suggested having the computer shipped FEDEX to expedite delivery. (Which only cost a small fortune.) Wow, dealing with the number one company is so much better, than dealing with you know who. NOT!!
The new computer arrives much sooner than anticipated. (I should have known then there would be a problem.) Let me back up a moment. When I bought the new computer, all I really needed was the tower. I asked the %$$#% salesman if I could purchase just the computer, as I had a great keyboard, monitor, etc. He of course said they only sold them as a package, but if I wanted to use my old peripherals it wouldn’t be a problem. I then asked that he make sure I get extra ports in the tower, as I wanted to use two printers. No problem he said. He said a lot of things but followed through on none. Uh huh, bright spanking new computer WITHOUT A ZIP DRIVE, UPGRADED GAME CARD OR EXTRA PORTS. Now I knew why the computer arrived so early. That %$#$#$ salesman, sent a model right off the floor. BUILD YOUR OWN INDEED! Time to call the new company I BOUGHT THE "NEW" COMPUTER FROM!
After six hundred and sixty-six menu choices, I finally reach customer service. I very sweetly explain my plight, and desperate need to get back to work. I tell him how impossible this is without a zip drive as all my documents were saved to zips, (never mind the fact I’m having Highlander withdrawal.) He apologizes for the inconvenience and suggests that I return the whole kit and caboodle. It will only cost an additional $160.00 to return. Then an additional $160.00 plus the FEDEX charge to receive the computer I originally asked for. Everything should arrive as requested in three weeks. "WHAT did you say?" I sputtered. As he started to repeat his statement, I cut him off saying, "That was a rhetorical question, a statement of disbelief. Didn’t you listen to what I said?" He replied, "What seems to be the problem?"
Now don’t get me wrong, I realize it’s not his fault the computer wasn’t what I asked for, (or paid additional money for,) but if I had his neck in my hands at that moment, I could, and would have decapitated him without the benefit of a sword. Holding back my desire to scream, "What don’t you get, you moron," I simply stated that my job required me to be at court in ten days with the documents now held captive on countless zips. Zips I couldn’t open to retrieve said documents, as my new computer doesn’t have the damn zip bay I requested. Therefore I can’t wait an additional three weeks. Plus I’m damn tired of companies yanking my purse strings to correct their mistakes; doesn’t anyone take responsibility for their mistakes any more? (All said in one breath.) Second breath; I just paid $300.00 for in home tech support, so get a tech here tomorrow to add the damn zip bay! His reply, "I’m sorry, the zip can only be factory installed." At this point I apologize for my attitude, telling him how overwrought I am, and ask him what can be done. He states that he can understand why I’m so upset, and perhaps he can find a solution, could I hold for a few moments? After ten minutes on hold he returns, and states he has found the solution. They will send me an external zip. Just plug it in, and you’re all set. I said, "I don’t think so. Where do I plug it in? I never received the extra ports I requested." His reply, "Hold on a moment." Five minutes pass, I’m searching for the bandages for my ear while praying this can be resolved. Ten minutes pass; I’m wondering if I could sue for additional ear surgery. Fifteen minutes pass; maybe I should look for that old word processor, and type an appeal for additional time to prepare for that court date. Eighteen minutes and some odd seconds later, he returns to tell me all my problems are solved. He will send the external zip, and a new keyboard with two USB ports on the back. All I have to do is plug the zip into the keyboard and Voila; I’ll be set to go. Wonderful, I say. How long will it take to receive them, and what will it cost? It won’t cost you anything for the zip, you paid for that already. The keyboard will only be an additional $10.00 for the upgrade. I’ll get these out tomorrow. I can FedEx them for a total of $29.00. That’s great I say, and thank him profusely. Halleluiah, I don’t have to send the computer back. I think I’ll go play, I’ll catch up on any news I missed on Highlander: Endgame.
You just spoke to that nice young man Chris in customer service, and he said everything was in stock and on their way. So why do I feel this terrible dread? Maybe I should type that court appeal, just to play it safe. Nah, I’d rather play on the computer and check out the news on "Highlander: Endgame". Guess which won out. Of course it was the movie. For three days I played and enjoyed all the news and pictures on Adrian’s site.
Big mistake number seven. I should have typed the request for an appeal! Why? Because the zip, and the keyboard never arrived! Once again, back to six hundred and sixty-six menus to reach customer service. I asked to speak to Chris whom I’d spoken with three days prior. Do you have his four-digit extension number he asks, no I reply………..then I can’t give you Chris, what seems to be your problem, please respond with your customer number, phone number with area code, and your current address. I give all the required information, and ask the young man for his name, and his four-digit extension number. He replies, my name is Chris, and I’m not permitted to give you my extension number. O.K., now I’m beginning to think I’m in the Twilight Zone. I proceed to give Chris number two a lengthy explanation of my problem. When I finally pause to take a breath, he say’s "uh huh, I see that information on my computer." Then why the heck did he make me go through that whole explanation! I bite my tongue, and try to remain civil. I ask if he could please check to see why the items weren’t received yet. Chris number two puts me on hold; I quickly start typing that appeal. I just know something has gone very wrong. Halfway through my court appeal, Chris returns to say, "Your items should arrive tomorrow." Somehow I doubt this, but I thank Chris number two, and quickly complete the appeal so I can have it sent FedEx to the appropriate court personnel.
Five days after speaking with Chris number two the items still haven’t arrived. (Thank goodness the court accepted my appeal although with great displeasure as I couldn’t give them a date to proceed.) Time again to call the NEW COMPANY I BOUGHT THE NEW COMPUTER FROM. This time I spoke to Dora, if I had gotten another Chris, I think I would have went right over the edge. I gave Dora my customer number etc., and requested her to read my information from the computer. I then asked her to please check the status on my items. After waiting only ten minutes Dora sweetly explained that the order was being held up, as the external zip was not in stock. Well folks, this is when I truly lost it. I requested Dora to please let me speak with a supervisor. Dora said the supervisor was not available, as she has just stepped away from her desk. That was when I dropped kicked the phone across the room. Dora has no idea how lucky she was not to be within my reach. When I retrieved the phone with dangling batteries, and missing back plate, I demanded that Dora get someone in authority that could help me remedy my problem right NOW. Dora replies hold on please, and there I stand with a dead line in my hands. Uh huh, I was cut off.
O.K. I can deal with this. I hit redial (actually I wanted to hit Dora) go through the six hundred and sixty-six menus, and get Chris number three on the phone. (Now I know I must be in the Twilight Zone.) I go through all the required information, I ask Chris to read my file as my voice is starting to get hoarse from repeating the problem. Chris reads for five minutes (I swear I heard him snicker) then says, "Maybe I can help you." I reply, "I’d rather speak to a supervisor." I definitely hear him snicker as he replies; the supervisor is not available at the moment. I reply, "I’ll hold on Chris until the supervisor is available." "You can’t do that!" Chris said. I reply, "Watch me! If you cut me off Chris, I will hunt you down and kill you," causing Chris to laugh out loud, and reply, "Hold on while I switch you, and I won’t cut you off."
After holding for a few minutes, I hear a child say, "Hi my name is Denzel, how may I help you?" (I thought Denzel was a child as his voice kept cracking like a twelve year olds.) I ask Denzel to please read my file. Denzel reads awhile, and then asks, "What seems to be the problem?" I go through the whole damn explanation again, adding that I’m very dissatisfied with the service I’ve been given. Denzel replies, "Gee that’s too bad, why don’t you send the whole thing back." I reply, (while wishing I could reach through the phone and wring his neck) "Denzel, did you listen to what I just said? It will cost me $380.00 to send this one back, and receive the one I originally requested, not to mention it will take three weeks for the new, new computer to arrive." I DON’T HAVE THREE WEEKS; I NEED THAT ZIP DRIVE NOW. I NEEDED IT THREE WEEKS AGO!!!!!!!!!! Denzel replies, "Well, you could go buy the zip and keyboard yourself, and I’ll give you a credit for the amount you have to pay for them on your bill." Wonderful I say. I’ll send you a copy of the charges. Thank you, and please don’t forget to cancel the zip, and keyboard on your end. (Yes, Denzel forgot. I have a ton of peripherals I can’t use.)
Fantastic, I think to myself, now I can get the ball rolling. I dash to the neighborhood computer store, purchase the necessary items, dash home and install everything.
BIG MISTAKE NUMBER EIGHT!
After installing the zip, and running it for five minutes the whole computer
starts to go wacky. Then it shuts
Oh my God…………..a brief fatal error warning, then a blue screen. The DAMN thing died.
O.K. I will deal with this! I know you can’t sue a computer company; they throw everything in their disclaimer including an act of God. Most of these guys who own computer companies are lawyers, and they protect themselves to the hilt. But…. I know a few things about the law, one thing being the benefit of arbitration! (You can ask an arbitrator to intercede, and hear your complaints. If they are legitimate, you win, and the company must comply.) Armed with this knowledge I once again call the dreaded NEW COMPANY I BOUGHT THE NEW COMPUTER FROM. No more Mr. Nice Guy………..When I finally reach customer service, after the curst six hundred and sixty-six menus. I reach Beth, (poor Beth, she’s totally unaware she’s dealing with a lunatic on a mission) and say, "I would like to speak to your legal department." Dead silence! I repeat my request, and Beth replies, "Please hold on." A very nice mature woman comes on the line asking if she may help me. I say, "Is this the legal department?" She replies that it’s not, and that she has read my very large file, and is sure she can help me. (Now this woman knows she’s dealing with a lunatic on a mission.) I state that I’ve reached the end of my patience, I will tell her what I want, and she will let me know if she can comply, if she can’t, I want the legal department.
What I want your company to do for me is: 1) Send me a new, new computer. Up graded, and discounted. 2) Remove the charges for returning the new-old computer. 3) I will keep the new computer until I receive the new-new one. 4) I want this done fast!!!!!!
Now I know this sounds extreme, but keep in mind the peptic ulcer I’ve started on. The additional gray hair, the parents of the child I’m supposed to be representing in court, (also working on ulcers) not to mention my standing in the eyes of the court system. All because I can’t get to my court records, without that darn zip bay. One other thing I learned while working with the pundits of law. When you have the other side on the run………GO FOR BROKE! Always ask for more than you’re entitled or deserve.
Well low and behold, this sweet mature woman agrees to each demand, and states that she will waive all shipping charges on both computers. Plus she’ll throw in a free scanner. The return labels will be FedExed tomorrow, disregard the five-day return warning, and return the old-new computer after receipt of the new-new computer. Wait till it’s up and running to my satisfaction, then, and only then do I have to return the new-old one. I thank her repeatedly, (while wondering if my credit card can bear the cost of both computers) she gives me her private e-mail addy, and states I should e-mail her with any problems that may occur. She reminds me of the three- week delivery date, as they want to trouble-shoot this one. I accept the wait with joy, as I at least have a date to give the court system. I proceed to hang up the phone, while doing the happy dance, when I thought I heard her………..*snicker*. No, this has to be my imagination. Nothing else could possibly go wrong! I quickly call the court attendant requesting an in-house meeting to set up another court date. Apparently the judge is really ticked! He wants a face-to-face meeting with me ASAP. I calmly explain I’m having trouble with my car, (it won’t start when it’s raining, and it’s been raining for two weeks,) I tell the attendant I’ll be buying a new battery this weekend, can we make the appointment for next Monday? He definitely snickers, and says he is glad he’s not me. The judge who is now a bright shade of purple relays the message I better be there at 9:00 AM sharp on Monday morning.
Saturday morning arrives; sweetheart, and I are off to the local shop to purchase a new battery. The entire trip took less than two hours, nearly two hours of sweethearts running commentary on how wonderful everything turned out regarding the computer problems, how haggard I looked, and could I find the time to make some of his special meals, clean, do laundry, etc. My reply, "The computer problems are NOT resolved, thank you for telling me I look like a hag, and no I won’t have the time to cook, clean, etc. until the NEW, NEW COMPUTER IS UP AND RUNNING."
Once home we try to connect the new battery, oops the terminals are on the wrong side. Back to the local battery shop with the warning to sweetheart to please refrain from any more comments. After nearly two hours of silent bliss we return home, head straight to the garage, turn the key to open the door, and the garage door opens with a hideous sound that could wake dead. I tell sweetheart he must grease the door after connecting the battery. He replies, anything you want love. (Which means, when I get to it, if ever.) After a weekend of unexpected company, (mad dash to clean the house, prepare edible food, and transfer the hag into a presentable representation of a human being) my stress level had reached an all time high. If one more thing goes out of whack I knew I would have to be committed. All of Sunday night was spent preparing to meet the purple-faced judge, and hoping to escape our meeting without being censured. I knew in my heart the judge would not believe my computer woes.
Monday morning I was up at the crack of dawn, I was way too nervous to eat breakfast, I ran down to the garage and started the car. Yesssssss, it starts, things are starting to look up. I shower, (restart the car) take extra care in my grooming, (restart the car, to make absolutely sure she’ll start) even apply eye make-up with the hope of appearing to be a normal person instead of a stressed out lunatic. Restart the car for the forth time, oh yes……..I can deal with this.
Two hours before the scheduled appointment I decide to get on the road. Arriving an hour early will give me the chance to test the atmosphere, and show the judge my ability to accomplish something on time. I go down to the basement, shoot the computer a dirty look, and open the garage door. (Once again the door opens with a horrendous screech.) Sitting at the end of the driveway is an adorable skunk enjoying a bowl of cat crunches that I leave out daily for the neighborhood stray cats. As Mr. Skunk looks up at me, my first thought was, "Why didn’t that God awful noise from the garage door scare him away?" As Mr. Skunk starts to walk towards me, my second thought was, " Aren’t skunks nocturnal?" As I was running to hit the button to close the garage door, my third thought was, "Mr. Skunk must be rabid."
I run back upstairs to call the town police, while giving directions and explaining why I wouldn’t be here when they arrived (a court appointment that I absolutely can’t be late for) I hear a tremendous bang, (now what, I think to myself) I give the last bit of information to the desk sergeant, and run back downstairs to see what the noise was. Oh my God, dangling right before my horrified eyes was the very large spring that opens, and closes the garage door. I can’t believe this; my car is trapped in the garage. I run back upstairs (by this time dripping sweat) to look for the key that enables you to open the door manually. Of course after ten years of not needing the damn key, I can’t find it! I run back downstairs, (smacking the computer as I run by) and try to determine how I’ll get the door open. After a brief investigation of the very large spring, I discover the S-Hook at the end of the spring that attaches to the pulley has rusted off.
O.K. I can deal with this. They don’t call me Mrs. MacGyver for nothing. I check my watch noting I still have forty minutes before I need to leave. I run back upstairs, out into the yard, and wrestle with the thick metal trellis holding my hedge roses in place. With a last super human effort I free the trellis from the ground, and land face first in the rose bushes. I disentangle my hair, and body from the thorns, shredding my last pair of pantyhose in the process. I drag the trellis inside, (not a small feat considering the trellis was larger than the doorway) run to the medicine cabinet for disinfectant, catching a glimpse of a wild eyed, disheveled, bloody mad-woman in the mirror. I check my watch, decide the heck with the disinfectant, I’ll do it after I fix the door. I drag the trellis downstairs, (through two more doorways) and into the garage. I get my aviator shears to cut a length of metal long enough to construct an S-Hook the size of the broken one. Within five minutes I’ve managed to duplicate the S-Hook, pierce my right hand with the metal wire causing the hand to bleed profusely, and break three nails on my left hand.
I again glance at my watch, and decide I don’t have time to clean and bandage the hand. I run and get my trusty straight edge screwdriver to force an opening in the spring to insert the S-Hook. By this time my hand is covered in blood, (also my clothes) so when I grasped the spring, and forced in the screwdriver, of course the screwdriver slips and stabs me in the thigh. Upon this piercing I had a revelation. MAYBE I WAS NOT MEANT TO OWN A COMPUTER!
With screwdriver firmly in hand, I stood up and walked towards the doorway to the basement, I entered the doorway and headed towards the computer. Just as I was about to (repeatedly) stab the demon tower that housed all my misery, I came back to my senses realizing I had to get to court.
I had fifteen minutes to attach the spring to it’s housing, stop the bleeding, and somehow get presentable. What I failed to realize, was the strength it would take to stretch this spring the length of the garage door while standing on a ladder. Twenty minutes later my rage had built to a level, which gave me inhuman strength. Somehow I was able to accomplish this feat. I walked over to the button that opened the garage door, praying all the while it would work. I pushed the button, the door began to rise, and I started jumping up and down with glee.
Then I spied Mr. Skunk. In my maddened endeavor to create the necessary S-Hook to open the door, I’d forgotten all about Mr. Skunk, and the police. (Where the hell are the police when you need them.) I looked at Mr. Skunk, Mr. Skunk looked at me, I grabbed the first thing my bloody hand touched (a garden rake), and charged Mr. Skunk screaming, "Oh no, you %$#%, not when I’m so close to freedom. You want to mess with me, I’ll tear you apart you %$#%."
To my shame, poor Mr. Skunk hobbled away as fast as his injured foot allowed. The poor thing was injured, not rabid. As I stared at Mr. Skunks egress, the tears started to well in my eyes. I gave up, and admitted defeat. I could never reach the courthouse on time, and I felt morally empty with the thought of my cruelty to Mr. Skunk.
I left the garage and entered the basement; I apologized to the computer for my attempted assault, dragged my sore, and bloody body up the stairs. It was time to attend to my injuries, all the while thinking, the judge would never believe this. When I approached the medicine cabinet, and saw myself in the mirror, I started to laugh. I looked as if I’d been in a war. Then the thought hit me, to hell with giving up. I am in a war. I’ve never been a quitter, and I’m not going to be one now. I ran downstairs, grabbed my purse, got in the car, and started driving to my appointment. I arrived at the courthouse fifteen minutes late. I ran up the steps, and through the metal detector, (at which time the security guard put his hand on his gun) as I passed through the metal detector, the guard stopped me to ask if I had been in an accident. "No, but I’m very late for a meeting with Judge P," I said. He ushered me to a nearby bench, sat me down, and asked me to wait a moment. (All the while keeping his hand on his gun.) He then picked up his table phone, and called the Judge. While sitting on the bench grinning from ear to ear, appearing to anyone passing by, like a crazed lunatic, I kept thinking to myself, he’ll have to listen to, and believe the events that led up to my being late. Why else would I look like this?
The guard cautiously approached, and requested that I please follow him. Smiling like a loon I lifted my sore, and bloody body, and followed the guard to the Judges chambers. The look on his Honor’s face when I entered made the whole misadventure almost worthwhile. When the Judge finally was able to speak, he introduced himself, and asked what in Gods name happened to me. I in turn introduced myself, and asked if he wanted the short story or the long one. He requested the short, so I explained the morning’s misadventures in great detail. While listening to my tale, His Honor went from small chuckles to huge guffaws, and totally lost it when I stated, "Where the hell are the cops when you need them". He then asked why I came to court in the condition I was in, (he felt I definitely needed medical attention) why didn’t I call the court and explain what happened. I told him this would require the recounting of the long story. He smiled, picked up his phone, and ordered buttered rolls and coffee. He invited me to join him in this culinary delight, and then told me to proceed with the long story. I started by telling him why I decided to appear in such disarray. I explained how he would have to believe my story considering the condition I was in. He laughed, and said he was a believer. Then he asked that I start at the beginning if I felt up to it. I told him I was fine now, but I truly thought I was facing death by computer. I related the above story while munching my roll and drinking my coffee, only stopping when I needed to reapply napkins to my hand, which refused to stop bleeding. His Honor thoroughly enjoyed the tale, laughing uproariously at times, and then feeling as indignant as I at other portions of the story. When all was said and done, he wished me luck with the new, new computer, said he was looking forward to seeing me in his courtroom in three weeks. If I presented my case as well as I presented this story, it would be interesting to say the least.
Three weeks later. Uh huh, all the items I requested Denzel to cancel arrived! Can you guess what didn’t arrive? You got it. The return labels never made it to my abode. But the new, new computer arrived. I immediately open the box containing the tower to check for the zip bay. Hallelujah! The bay for the zip is there. Within two hours the computer is up and running. (I moved so fast, I thought I would break a worlds record.)
I will not call the COMPANY I BOUGHT THE COMPUTER FROM. I call Iomega instead. After explaining the problem to a lovely young lady, she asks me to insert the Iomega software. Uh Huh, I don’t have software for Iomega, THE COMPANY I BOUGHT THE NEW-NEW COMPUTER FROM, didn’t supply the disk.
Thank the heavens, this wonderful person directs me to a URL where I can download the driver and software. Once this is done I decide I better check out everything. Could it be possible that anything else doesn’t work.
You bet it’s possible. The free scanner is my next project. I open the box, remove the scanner and cables, read the directions and follow them. The directions require you to install the software, than plug in the scanner, and go to a special web site to complete installation. When I arrive at the scanner site I can’t believe what I see. The site clearly states, "Windows 2000 Professional is the next generation of Windows NT. Windows 2000 was designed for corporate markets and is not intended as the logical upgrade path of Windows 95/98. Then the site proceeds to give a list of compatible scanners for Windows 2000, and further states: Models not on this list will not be supported under Windows 2000. There will be no new drivers written, and no upgrades done to make them compliant. Guess what, uh huh……….my scanner model is not on the list.
O.K. I can deal with this. The scanner was a freebie; maybe I can use it with the original computer, if I ever can reach them. Plus the zip fiasco was easy to remedy. Now the only problem remaining is where are the return slips for the new computer, now that I have the New-New computer.
O.K. I can deal with this. After six hundred and sixty-six menus, customer information, and yada yada yada, Mike says, "He will check and see what the problem is." While I wait for Mike to get back to me, I do my nails (two coats of polish each hand.) I’m just starting on my toenails, when Mike returns to say, "No problem, I’ll have the return labels delivered by Air Born Express tomorrow. I thank him kindly, and think to myself………YEAH….RIGHT!
The next day, as unbelievable as it seems the labels arrive just like promised. I open the package, and low and behold. There are only two labels. %$#%, I need four. These people are really trying to kill me; my tummy is rumbling (ulcer saying thank you) my hands are shaking with the need to choke Mike. I run my hand through my hair as I’m telling myself to try and calm down. My hand comes away from my head with a ton of hair in it.
That’s it, I say to myself. Mike is DEAD! I go through the six hundred and sixty-six menus, and ask to speak to Mike. The next thing I know……. I’m staring at the phone screaming, "No I don’t know Mike’s four digit number you num-nuts, you know damn well you’re not allowed to give them out, so why the hell do you keep asking for it?"
I really need to give this guy credit. If someone spoke to me, like I just spoke to him, CLICK…would have been my reply. But this guy had lots of fortitude, he calmly said, "Please hold on a moment." Perhaps I’m not the first customer to be driven over the edge. Could it be this poor guy has had prior experience with lunatics? My guess would be yes……oh yes!
He comes back on the phone, and requests my customer number. I calmly
give it to him. He asks me to be patient while he reads my very large file. While he is reading my file, I’m reading the return labels. You’re not going to believe this one. BOTH LABELS STATE: For the return of Speakers. What the hell is wrong with these people! This poor guy gets back on the phone and says; "I’ll get two more labels out to you." "You better make it three labels," I say. Then I proceed to explain why. This guy has the audacity to actually laugh out load. I really wanted to stick the labels up his nose, place my hand over his mouth, and tell him to laugh now! Instead I tell him, "I really don’t see the humor in this." He apologizes, and says, "I’ll send out three labels. They should arrive in three days."
Three days later. Did the labels arrive? NOOOO!!!!!!!!!!! Back to SIX HUNDRED AND SIXTY-SIX MENUES. This time I reach a young lady named Tamera. I don’t think Tamera was too bright. She also had quite an attitude, and this was before I even opened my mouth. I gave Tamera all the required information, and asked if she could read my file. With a sigh of annoyance Tamera asks me to hold on. When she comes back to the phone she says, "Well how can I help you? "I explain the whole label fiasco, and state they never arrived." I ask if she can check and find out why. Tamera says, "I see the labels were requested, but they were cancelled." I ask her, "Why." O.K. folks hold onto your undies…………Tamera says, "They were cancelled cause you didn’t send anything back." "I didn’t send anything back? How the hell am I supposed to send anything back WITHOUT THE RETURN LABELS? Does this make any sense to you!" After a long, and pathetic UHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, Tamera says, "I’ll have the labels reinstated.
Unfortunately, just as I hang up the phone sweetheart arrives home. His first question is, "How are things going with the computer." Now really folks, this was not a good time to ask this particular question. Poor sweetheart took the whole brunt of Tamera’s stupidity. But he did ask for it when you consider he asked why I wasn’t satisfied. I had the new, new computer after all. When I told sweetheart we were paying interest on three thousand dollars worth of computer, which was just sitting on the dining room table, due to the fact no one could get their act together and send the right labels. Well, let me tell you………….sweetheart nearly had a coronary. (Why should I be the only miserable member of this family?) SNERK.
Four weeks later. The good news: I went to court and won my case. (The Judge even winked at me, after I presented it.) The bad news: Four weeks, and four phone calls later I finally received all the correct shipping labels. Sent everything back……………yeehaaaaaaaaaaa. I won the battle, but the wars not over yet. The battlefield has moved to new territory. THE CREDIT CARD! I’m bruised, battered, sans mucho hair, and even acquired a facial tic. I don’t know if I’ll survive the next battle, I no longer have two good legs to stand on. (You know, that paralysis from the waist down.) But I’ll fight the good fight till I die. They will remove the old-new computer from my credit card, even if it kills me. And it might! Jinny Anyone wishing to respond to this article, can do so here:- Jinny |
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Death By
Computer
The
computer crashes. Well, I didn’t know you couldn’t save tons of
pictures on the hard drive, and why can’t I see the pictures on certain
sites.
VIRUS………Uh
huh, you guessed it. After a few weeks of cyber bliss, I entered cyber hell.
I had a worm infection! (Well not me, the computer had the worm infection,
but I felt very ill.)
their corporate
offices. Very strange! No matter what number you called you received the
same recording with the same ominous voice saying, "You have reached (insert
appropriate dept. or office), all our (insert appropriate etc.), are busy
at the moment, please hold." After holding for ten minutes the same voice
(from Hades) says, "all (you got it by now) are busy please call back."
CLICK…….. You’re disconnected.
While
sitting at the new computer, answering some e-mail, and explaining to friends
the problems I’ve had (with computers) I got this very sick feeling
in my stomach. The kind you get when emanate doom is approaching. What the
heck is wrong with me I thought?
Designs by Kath