When it comes to technology and electronics, I’m about as apathetic and impatient as you can get. I have been known to get abusive to the MIS guys. When something anything goes wrong with my computer, and I go deaf, dumb, blind, and psycho if anyone suggests that I may have had something anything to do with whatever snag I’m suffering. Now that I am (happily) on week nine of unemployment, that MIS guy is my mother.
Her heart is in the right place, and she is very generous, but she should know by now who she’s dealing with. I have broken the last three (not exaggerating) computers AND the last three (not exaggerating) vacuum cleaners she has given me. (Sorry, Mom! I called the Dyson people. Can we talk about that offline?) She got a new Kindle and gave me her old one the other day. I almost had an aneurism trying to find the on/off button. A few years ago, she was taking me out for dinner. She handed me her iPhone and asked me to call ahead to see if there was a wait. I was like, “how? Where is the keyboard? The mouse? How about the magnifying glass?? I’ll just call 4-1-1. Hello?? No dial tone!!”
Anyway, I was dating an Internet genius (not exaggerating) a few years ago and he was embarrassed for me that I was still using my mom’s hand-me-down Razor, so he got me an iPhone for my birthday. It took me at least two years to realize I could charge it from my computer, and not only from a wall outlet. It then took me months to stop and read the pop-up message that I got every time I charged my phone asking if I wanted to transfer all my cell phone pictures to my computer. I would just get annoyed and click ok ok ok ok ok ok ok ok ok ok ok ok ok ok ok ok ok ok ok ok ok ok ok ok. Since I never bothered deleting any of those pictures (who has the time?), I ended up with endless duplicates. Pain in my ass. For a host of hysterical reasons, things with Internet Genius didn’t work out, but I got an iPhone, right? Not too shabby.
Last year, I started seeing a sweet angel from Heaven – let’s call him “MC” – who liked to text me pictures of his penis. They weren’t sexy (are they ever?) but they caught me off-guard and made me LOL every time, as intended. They were so funny! He’d pose for all sorts of inappropriate and perverted selfies – they slayed me! I’d be at work talking to someone, in a meeting, wherever, my phone would light up and POW! Look, everyone! MC’s Penis! So shameless! So wrong! So funny!
As I mentioned, I haven’t the slightest interest in computers or technology. Ironically, my last job was selling cutting edge dial-up modems. I never understood exactly what they did. Actually, and more accurately, I never cared what they did. Sadly, no one else seemed to care either. Poor things. Dial-up modems stopped flying off the shelves, like so many Dodo birds before them, so many many years ago.
So anyway, when my computer would magically transfer all my pictures, they’d save them in a million different places (drives? Is that what they’re called?) I tried to delete all the duplicates and the dirty ones, but I swear to God instead of deleting them, my computer backed them up and hid them somewhere. I decided to sort them and keep the ones I wanted in a shiny new personal folder. (There is no such thing as “personal” anything, btw. You probably knew this). Knowing my days were numbered, a few weeks before I was canned, I emailed that folder to myself and also put them on my phone. I downloaded them to my home computer, twice by accident. When I actually did get canned, the MIS guy sent me all my pictures in a zip file, so I downloaded them… again. Then my computer broke, so my mom came over, figured out the problem, transferred everything on my computer to a thumb drive, went to the Apple store, got what we needed, then she reinstalled everything. The pictures multiplied like Gremlins.
I had a picture of my sweet Leroy as my background, but he was sideways. Having no patience, I tried flipping it upright for exactly 15 seconds and gave up. I could live with Leroy being sideways, craning my neck while I cried. Mom, however, couldn’t live with it. It was a quick fix for sure, and she was more than happy to help! (I bet you know where this is going). I had no idea where that picture was saved, so she opened random pictures in random folders hell-bent on finding Leroy. Instead she found MC’s penis. I saw one pop up and nearly died, but she closed it right away, not realizing what the pic was. And then she opened another – same result. Then she opened another, and I had an out-of-body experience. She took a good look at it to figure out what it was, then with horror said, “well, THAT’s not what I was looking for!” Thank God I was still out of my body. Like so many embarrassing events in my life, if I don’t acknowledge something, then it didn’t happen. She calmly shut down my computer, and we left to go shopping, as previously planned. When we got to the top of my street, I said that I didn’t really need anything at the store actually, thanked her sincerely, got out of the car… and ran home.
The End. Please God, let it be The End. I am so sorry, Mom!