Way Too Close of a Call

With the second week of finals on the way, the last thing I needed was a mini-disaster. Tonight, I picked up my computer off the ground. Before I picked it up, it was on. After I picked it up, it was off. My attempts to wake it up didn't work. I even held down the power button -- NOTHING.

I freaked out for a minute before I realized that all my outlines are on the CD-ROM inside the computer. I call BF who tells me how to get it out. I then get on the phone with the Best Buy customer service. Or, I got to hear 30 minutes of looped advertising is what I should say.

I was on my cell phone with HP technical support. Or the routing people, I should say. Apparently all the lines to tech support were down. I asked how a 24-hour customer service number could not be working, and I just got "It's not working" in an Indian accent. I hate this exporting of our customer service telephone lines to countries with sing-song accents. It's very frustrating when you're already frustrated. I'd rather try to have a conversation with my boyfriend's cat. At least she doesn't even pretend to understand me. After confirming that I could not call them myself, I hung up.

I was still on the land line with Best Buy's continuous pleas for me to work for them and visit their web site (which I couldn't do without my computer, which is why I was calling them). BF called. I called him back on my cell phone. He became my one manned customer service. He looked up the owner's manual (which I'm sure I have somewhere, but since I lost the filing cabinet, I haven't been able to keep up with anything that didn't fit in an accordion folder). We found out all I had to do was press the reset button, and all was OK.

Disaster: averted. I don't have to drive out to f-ing Beaverton (home of the first Hooters in Oregon) tomorrow. Thank god. I can use that time to study and not freak out how there isn't much service left in customer service.