Technology, part 1

I first got my computer about five years ago, and was absolutely STUPID as to how the thing worked and what I could do with it and on it. I can remember at around ten o'clock at night on the second night of having it just trying to get something to appear so I could figure out where I was with the thing, and the more I clicked the more I was getting it knotted up to the point where I could no longer get anything more on the screen, it was just that messed up. Needless to say I was in a snit. And not just your average, run of the mill snit, this was a snit to the nth degree; epic even by my standards. I called my newfound torture device a few choice words, no, I take that back, I called the bugger everything but free, pure and twenty one and then I just left it there to fester in it's hatefulness while I went to another room and continued my 'discussion' there. When I finally ran out of steam I came back to the computer, fervently praying that there was a clear screen now where there had been total chaos a few minutes ago, but no, still as messed up and still just as immovable. Well now what? I thought briefly about taking it outdoors to the parking lot and driving over it, but the frugal voice in my head spoke up and mentioned just how much I had dropped for this thing and I decided there were probably more prudent ways to deal with the problem. By now it was going on to eleven o'clock, way too late to call my computer friend who could have told me what to do to remedy the situation, and who, by the way had taken computer in college and could make one sit up and beg for it's life if she wanted to, so I thought of the next best thing~~ call the computer manufacturer's hot line and see if they could help me. Do you know just how much useless paper there is that comes with a computer? I started taking the boxes apart to read the literature in hopes of finding the one-eight hundred number that meant my freedom from the satanic beast that had taken up residence on the desk in my bedroom, and found probably enough papers to put a complete tree back together, and somewhere in that paper storm I found A NUMBER to call. I dialed it, fervently praying that I could rouse someone long enough to get this mess straightened out and I reached Shirley. Or Sarah, or what ever, I do remember it was a woman with an 'S' name. I recounted my whole story that basically went like this~~ 'I can't get my computer to show anything except a big bunch of stuff!! Please help.' Shirley, or what ever, gave me this gem of wisdom~~ 'Push the button on the back, but you didn't hear that from me if the computer malfunctions.' I told her the secret would die with me and that I owed her a debt of gratitude, and I hung up and immediately started looking for a button on the back of my tower. At this point I can remember thinking that the powers that be must be bored with nothing better to do than to drive this poor mortal to near hysteria because as hard as I tried to push, pull, spindle and/or mutilate anything that even remotely looked like a button nothing happened because THERE WAS NO FREAKING BUTTON!!!! I had the wrong kind of computer to do that with. Twelve thirty and I have to be up at five to go to work. Oh my one last frayed, worn to a frazzle, burned up nerve. Once again I dove back into the mountain of paperwork that came with the demon and vowed that I would find some form of help, some scrap or tidbit of information that would tell me what to do. After reading everything once again I found the mother load!! It was the proper one-eight hundred number that would take me to the actual manufacturer, complete with troubleshooting. Just like on the opening of the Simpson's the clouds parted and the angels sang their glorious praise, and I dialed the number with renewed hope that I would solve my problem and once again see that all would be right with the world. I was put on hold. Oh My Freakin'....well I am sure you know the rest. It was now a waiting game. The clock seemed to be leaping forward towards five a.m. when I would be needing to get up, so I started bargaining with the phone's elevator music in order to speed things up. 'I will never call you elevator music again if you will just go get me a live human being'...'I will make sure I tell who ever it is I talk to that you deserve a raise'...(I was dead tired by now so it seemed very logical to talk to elevator music)...'I have coooooooooooookieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeees'...yes, even bribing a soundtrack seemed the right thing to do, and finally...it happened!!! 'This is Eric, how may I help you?' 'Are you real?' I screamed back, not daring to actually think I had reached a live person, and then without warning my whole sad life just poured out, culminating in the problem with my computer.I was tired and emotionally drained and at this point not really caring that I sounded like a raving lunatic. Once he finally sorted the actual problem out from all the other mess I unloaded on him he told me the solution~ go turn off the computer and turn it back on. There was silence for what seemed like an eternity, but was in actual fact probably about three seconds, while my poor riddled brain tried to process what he just said. 'That's it?' I asked, 'That's it' he said. I did what he told me, waited another eon while the computer started back up and Oh Em Gee, there it was!! My screen just as unblemished as the day it was brought into this world. I thanked Eric profusely, and somewhere in my tired rantings seem to remember telling him my first grand child would be his along with the best camel in my herd, and I hung up. Totally relieved and dead-dog tired. This was close to two o'clock by now. I crawled into bed, closed my eyes for what seemed like thirteen minutes, and got up when the alarm went off and slogged off to work. I can recall someone asking me if I was having a good time playing with my computer. 'Oh yes', I replied, 'This is the best fun I have had in forever!! I am having a blast!! I am so glad I finally bought one.' I then proceeded to go out and shoot their tire.