My husband, John, insists that I must emit some kind of nuclear ray that disrupts all electronic equipment I encounter. There does seem to be an inordinate number of incidents when “something” goes wrong with my computer, phone, Ipod, and on and on. For that reason, John proposes that I rent out my services to NASA as a tester for that organization’s space equipment.
And for the same reason, John doesn’t let me anywhere near his electronics. I deny the allegations, of course, and blame it on poor technology or whatever else I can come up with.
A while back I was deeply engrossed in a computer project when somehow my arm knocked over my cup, and coffee drenched my keyboard. Unfortunately, the keyboard did not react well to the soaking (poor technology, right?). It was fried. Could happen to anyone, right?
Not wanting to give John any more ammunition to add to his jaundiced view of my technological challenges, I decided not to share this latest misadventure with him. I called the firm that had sold me my computer and ordered a new keyboard. I didn’t go into the details. The firm is owned and run by two women in Portland who have done business with John and our company for years. Since they’re local, they promised to get me the requisite keyboard in a couple of days.
“Perfect!” I said. “Just give me a call when it’s ready and I’ll pick it up.”
Two days later John comes home carrying a package for me. The cat-who-swallowed-the-canary smile on his face said it all. The computer gals thought they’d be nice and deliver my package to John’s Portland office to save me the trip.
Can’t get away with anything!