Tuesday, October 7, 2014

                       POST-TRAUMATIC TECH DISEASE

      Who would have ever thought that a simple careless accident could result in a condition leading to increased alcohol consumption and hair loss? 

     While Mr. Wonderful was packing our bags at the cabin in the mountains, he inadvertently dropped my laptop computer (an Apple McBook) on the hardwood floor. I heard the thump and remember thinking, “Oh Lord, there goes my life.” I called sweetly from the other room, “What was that?!” He replied, “Nothing.” Yeah, right.

     When we got home, I opened it up, and there was exactly what he had said, “Nothing.” Joy. I just knew at that very moment, that a disease was brewing in my capillaries, and the tech bruising would not be short-lived. I was right.

    The nice twelve-year-old at the “Geek” counter informed us that it would be cheaper to buy a new computer than to spend the $700 it would cost to repair the old one. Mr Wonderful said, “When WE dropped it, I had no idea that it would have caused this much damage.” “We?” We means more than one person, n’est-ce pas? 

     $1225 later, Mr. Wonderful tried to comfort me saying “We’ll take turns paying the $100/month.” What? Why am I paying for something I didn’t break? I could feel the symptoms of my approaching condition, but I ignored them and took my new MacBook Air home and set it on my desk. After working out a few minor glitches, I discovered that the only issue was that it would not print in color. After $86.34 worth of brand new cartridges, it still would not print in color. So we determined that the printer was probably incompatible with the new operating system of my lightweight jewel. 

     Another twelve-year-old, a cuter one, sold us a brand new printer with new cartridges for only $124 plus tax. Mr. Wonderful said, “Oh, my. I didn’t think it would cost this much. Let’s add it to our computer bill, and WE can just put off the payment until the next bill.” 
I said nothing. 

     After he spent three hours downloading the driver, we still could not print in color. Extremely frustrated, he began pacing and talking about vodka. I tried to calm him down, but he was inconsolable. So we did what we always do: planned a dinner out with cocktails. “We’re taking this damned printer back first though,” he whined. I said nothing. We returned the new printer and cartridges with no problem.

     After waiting 45 minutes for another pubescent Geek to help us with our new computer, we were called to the counter. The nice young man said, “I don’t see anything wrong with the computer. If you bring in your old printer, we can tinker around with it for a few days. We should be able to figure out if it’s the computer or not.” A few days? Are you effen kidding me? No one can take away my “Air” for a mater of days, My life will come to a screeching halt. 

     We walked out of the store, our blood pressure up, our spirits down. Mission not accomplished. Seated now at our favorite restaurant, we ordered our drinks, laughed half-heartedly and tried to relax. While I was in the ladies room, Mr. Wonderful decided to take my phone and “update” something. When I returned, the screen read “Hello,” and it would not return to the home screen. Joy. I said nothing.

     It’s 24 hours later. I bought a new black cartridge, hoping that the colored one still had ink in it, and voilà, it all works. How can this be? Somehow we were stupid enough to believe that technology would simplify our lives. What moron told us that?