I Hate Computers.
My incoming Comcast e-mail cratered again. I called Comcast again, hoping for a repeat of the quick fix I got last night. However, this time I was told that I would have to “re-ad my TCP/IP” (whatever) and that I needed an operating system disc at the ready. I had to locate and sift through all the goddamned discs that came with the computer. Of course, none of the discs that came with this f***ing computer seemed to match the description the Comcast person gave me. She told me to call Dell, get an operating system disc and get back to her when I received it.
So I called Dell. After about a 45 minute wait, I got a gentleman who might have been answering the phone in India, or he might be an Indian man answering from somewhere else — I could not tell. I had to ask him to repeat everything at least three times. Before he would talk to me, he wanted my “alpha-numeric” number on the back of the computer. Getting to the back of the computer tower is no easy task. It is a spaghetti mess, and it is dark.
I said, “Look, I was told that I needed an operating system disc. Can you just send me the disc?” I had to repeat the foregoing about five times. It was as if I never said anything. He simply repeated, “Sir, would you give me the number from the back of your computer.” I located a dying flashlight, tipped the tower so that I could find the f***ing alpha-numeric bar code number on the back of the computer, which I had to read upside down.
I gave him the number. In fact, I gave him the number at least four times, which roughly matched the number of times I had to repeat my name, address and phone number. We did this linguistic back and forth for another hour while I did all the “Settings” and “Network” clicking he told me to do. In the meantime, he described one of the discs I have as being the operating system disc, but he still had me clicking all over the place. He was acting as if he could fix the problem there.
Next came the inevitable request that I re-start the computer. All that turned out to mean was that we could repeat the entire unintelligible and exasperating process from scratch. He obviously thought that he had it wired, as he said, “I’m sending you an e-mail now.” (Actually, he had to say that about four times before I could understand him). I told him that he could send fifty e-mails if he wanted, but I was still getting the same error. In fact, I asked him if he wanted me to try to send myself a goddamned e-mail from AOL. He ignored me and repeated that he was “sending me an e-mail” and that I should have it soon.
He told me that he would call me back in a half hour. It is now forty-five minutes later, the f****ing e-mail still doesn’t work ane he hasn’t called. I have been at this shit for almost four hours.
I’ve got five to one says he doesn’t call.
Did I mention that I f***ing hate computers?
Right about now I hate just about everyfuckingthing.