Still no modem. I’m going through withdrawals. Though the house is marginally cleaner and I’m making croutons from scratch. My Luddite tendencies are coming back, especially when I consider how long I’ll be on tech support trying to get the modem, router, wireless printer, and computers all communicating happily again. It’s like an ombudsman for the Hatfields and McCoys. It occurred to me that if Osama bin Laden really wanted to bring the US to its knees, all he had to do is have his operatives infiltrate tech support. It should be fairly easy—Pakistan is next-door neighbor to India. And getting hired is easy. They just need to be able to say, “Hi, my name is Bob, and I am happy to assist you today. What is your problem?”
Fifteen minutes into the conversation, “Bob” would say, “Now, Miss Keller, we are going to access your internal hard drive and delete all files that troubling you. Afterwards, everything will be hunky-dory.”
Me: (very giddy) “Oh, thank you, Mr. Bob.” Halfway into the procedure the monitor would flash up the warning, “Are you sure you want to continue with this? It may cause a complete system failure.”
Me: “Uh, Mr. Bob, do I need to backup up my system?”
Mr. Bob: “Oh, no, Miss Keller, that would be waste of your valuable time. Let me assure me that after we finish this, everything will hunky-dunky.”
I would delete the files.
Mr. Bob: “Now after hang up, you will need to reboot the system? You understand?”
Me: “Oh, yes, Mr. Bob. And thank you so much for your help.”
Mr. Bob: “No problem.”
After hanging up and rebooting, the blue screen of death would pop-up. That’s all it would take. Maybe I should be hoping my modem doesn’t arrive, ever. Nah. I trust Mr. Bob.