A Forcefield of Stupidity, part one

A week ago, I picked up my iBook from TekServe, the "Apple Specialists" on West 23rd Street. It had undergone some serious compu-surgery since it needed a new hard drive. Apparently, I pick up, toss, and dance with my machine way too vigorously. The tech told me that this creates a wobbly hard drive - the first step towards a meltdown. Fine. I bought an external hard drive to back my shit up - $125. - and brought the time bomb back to the store for a hard drive replacement - $250. Fine.

So yeah, I pick up the patient and boot it back up in the store's seating/waiting area. I figure that's the best place, since if it seems a little wonky a tech would be standing nearby. But it ran fine, good as new. Meanwhile a couple of hyperactive toddlers were wreaking havoc throughout the store, as their iShuffle-browsing parents lazily reprimanded them. I shut my computer off, satisfied with its performance and began to clap it shut. The brother of the demon duo ran next to me with a McDonald's cup in his hand. The father yanked his hand. Liquid from the cup splashed all over the keyboard and screen of my still-open laptop. Without time to fly into a rage, I began sopping up the liquid with my jacket and turned the iBook upside down.

The father assured me, "Don't worry about it, these things can take worse than that. Believe me." And I did. I decided to believe him.

"Okay, great, but can you just grab a towel or a techie and help me out with this?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'll be right back."

He was not right back. He and his Ritalin-deprived family left. Fuckers.

TO BE CONTINUED...