This is Epth Nation

Epth is a state of mind, not a place. Reading this will give you a virtual drivers license in that state, but you'll still need to be 21 to purchase alcohol. And you can't get any there anyway, so stop asking.

Saturday, July 01, 2006

People Whose Computers I Have Recently Repaired

Before I get all into this mess, I want to thank God for making it rain today. It was pouring upon the dry crusty earth, and the clouds were so thin the sun was a visible bright orange ball. These Dallas days, any rain is a sweet relief from the sameness of 95 and sunny. Yeah, you think you'd like that, but you wouldn't, trust me. Unless you're my wife, in which case 80 and cloudy is cause for a hoodie.

And man, that rain just came out of nowhere, didn't it? Is the science of meteorology still in its infancy? Why didn't any of those slickly-dressed "scientists" on TV see this coming? Looking at the Dallas radar, it's totally clear except for a little blob of dark red activity where I live. Maybe God is telling me to take a shower.

Side question: Anybody out there use Google Earth? Does it help fill your...satellitey needs? I'm going to try to get it to run on Linux, except that reminds me that I never finished my post/essay on Linux. Consider yourself lucky.

now, back to the whole purpose of this post, the
Numbered List of People Whose Computers I Have Recently Repaired.
by A. Computer Guy (Epth Nation will neither confirm nor deny the identity or even existence of this person, so don't bother even trying to figure out who it is.)

1) My place of employment is in a grubby brown office building. On the wall by the stairs, there's a horrific painting of a bullfighter that has either: a) long blades of grass sticking out of his bullfighting jacket, or b) green claws for hands. It's hard to tell. If you go up the stairs and go through the second office door on your left, you will be in a law office/collection agency. Actually, I think either both entities share an office, or the collections lady works as a subsidiary of the law office. It doesn't matter. What does matter is that my company is contracted to take care of their computer stuff, so I had to wrestle with their labelmaker for a couple of hours the other day. I was in there so long that I got acquainted with the office staff. First there is the receptionist, who is on her honeymoon. She's a cute hispanic girl with glasses. In her place on this labelmaker day was an older lady who was working as a temp. She was nice and reminded me of Phyllis on The Office.

The collections lady is one of those people who has a sense of humor but doesn't like to laugh. I don't know if she's just trying to be no-nonsense, or if she's just a b****, but she didn't ever laugh, even when she said something funny. This makes her an awkwardness machine, as nobody knows if its ok to laugh around her. I'd hate to have her calling my phone asking me to pay up. On top of the humor problem, she also looks like a bulldog. Specifically, she looks like that bulldog that gave Sylvester the cat fits in the old WB cartoons. That must also come from working in collections. When she started there, I bet she looked like some other animal, maybe a squirrel. Over time, she turned into what her job is. In two more years, I bet I'll look like Dell Dimension desktop.

Also temping in this office are two teenaged boys, carbon copies of each other and the insipid d-bags who inhabit MTV shows like Laguna Beach. They both have suspiciously even tans and wear lots of hemp. When I was working on the labelmaker, these twins were in a room in the back of the office talking loudly about how they like the n-word and how it sounds cool when you say it in a high voice. Then one of them started screeching "n- please yo n- my n-" and so on. He liked the word so much, he just kept on repeating it over and over. No wonder bulldog lady was in such a bad mood, I thought. She has to deal with these dunderheads all day.

So I'm at the receptionist desk working on the increasingly insane-seeming software that runs this supposedly state-of-the-art label printing machine, and all I hear for a good 10 minutes straight is this white boy n- screeching. Then some dude walks in looking for the lawyer, who is not there. He stares at me as if I'm the receptionist, because I'm restarting the computer or something and it looks like I'm just sitting there waiting for people to walk in the door. But I'm just the computer guy, so I just walked back and told the tan temp hemp twins that there was somebody at the door. Clearly embarassed, the one who was obsessed with that horrible ethnic slur had to stop using it long enough to tell the guy that the lawyer was at trial and wouldn't be in the office. He and his buddy had a good laugh, though, since they were sure the guy had heard n- this and n- that coming out of the kid's mouth, and that was so naughty of them. They're such rebels in their fashionable clothes and aloof attitudes. Nobody else does that.

2) There was this lady who started our conversation regarding payment by floating the idea that she would just pay with her dog, a really cute yorkshire terrier. While the dog was a wonderful young animal with a winning personality, I told her I couldn't accept a dog in lieu of payment. All the time I was there, she kept on with the joke. It was charming at first, and then I got to thinking that maybe she didn't really want to pay. Maybe, I would have my first delinquent/non-paying job. She did end up paying, thankfully, and as a bonus gave me some of her literature.

This was also the house with the system of dog gates that could theoretically keep either of their two "yorkies" confined to any room or hallway in the house. It took like 5 gates to get up to the computer room. This is overgating and should not be encouraged. We need more free range dogs so their muscles don't get stringy.

3) This isn't a specific person, it's more of a generalization: Aside from the Bulldog, no fat people seem to need computer service. Maybe it's a Dallas and/or wealth thing, but all my clients have been thin. I feel bad for soiling up their house with my girth.

4) And then there's the weightlifting place with all the freakish-looking and fitness-crazed men and women. But that's not the fun part: The place is run by a former pro-wrestler, and in the guy's office are dozens of framed ads from the 70's, detailing wrestling matches he participated in. He was a native-american-themed wrester, and on one of the posters under his name it says (in quotes) "hates the white man." He's my new hero.

5) Many smokers need computer service, but they don't seem to realize that smoking in their house all day for a year gives their computer (and the rest of their stuff) a sticky yellow film and a strong stale scent. I went to one apartment and the woman was smoking while I was standing there. She said, "Yeah, it needs to be cleaned out because the dust is so bad in this neighborhood." Right...that yellow film is caused by dust. I understand she's ashamed of her habits, but we can recognize chain smoking when we smell it. My car smelled like that computer for two days after I transported it.

Not that there's anything wrong with smoking...I don't want to be dragged into that issue. No way. On the issue of smoking being smelly, however, I am 100% affirmative.

6) There was a lady who bent over to write out a check, and hooooah! I don't know what happened, because I was strategically and consciously looking at the nice paintings on the wall of the house. I don't think she realized what she was showing, either, because that would be creepy. Anyway, to expound a bit more on my political leanings, I am 100% pro-bra and 0% pro-loose-fitting tank-tops. Call me a gentleman if you want (is that an insult these days?), but I don't need this.

7) There was this old guy who was clearly befuddled by the nature and workings of computers. He also claimed to have gone to high school with Warren Buffet. Buffet was on TV with the Gateses talking about their massive philanthropic efforts, and he was yelling at the guy to donate to his high school. Yeah, yelling at the TV makes you look crazy. I'll have to remember that the next time I watch the Packers play.

There are more people, but most of them are too boring for this blog. Most of them are ex-military, and I fear their contacts could kill me if they find out my identity, which can be neither confirmed nor denied by anyone. Just remember that, snipers.


If you're on for a month, can you really have a "series finale"? I'm looking at you, Pepper Dennis.

They're delivering a baby on Cheaters right now. Can anyone give me a definitive word on whether that show is real or fake? Let me repeat...they're delivering a baby on the show right now.


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