Impatient Cow


Knock-knock
Who’s there?
Impatient Cow
Impa–
MOOOOOOO!

The minute my family heard that joke, my nickname was established.

While I like to consider myself kind, polite and even charming on the outside, I know that on the inside I’m all ‘Come on. Come on. ComeonComeonComeon…COME ON!!!!’ for I suffer from PDD (Patience Deficit Disorder).

Driving requires almost constant deep-breathing exercises. (Seriously?  The light has been red for an eternity.  Is it that much to ask that you accelerate when it finally turns green??)  Grocery shopping is an epic battle between my love of food and my hatred of stupidity. (The aisle is designed to fit two carts. If you blindly wander into the middle, you’ve destroyed order.  Stay on your side and nobody gets hurt.)  Don’t even get me started on the DMV.  If I had to go there more than once every couple of years, I might become homicidal.

The natural enemy of those of us with PDD is the hippie.

Oh, dear God.

Please don’t misunderstand me; I love peace and harmony and free love as much as the next person.  I think war is an atrocity and marijuana should be decriminalized and people should be able to love whomever they want and flowers are beautiful and trees are necessary and blah, blah, blah.  But is it too much to ask people to…I don’t know…shower?  And maybe go all out and run a brush through their hair?  And, deodorant?  It’s our friend.  Also, stop shuffling around like you’re stoned out of your gourd.  I mean, I know you probably are (which is fine,) but maybe you could stay home and watch the Cartoon Network or Planet Earth DVDs till you come back down.

Given that I suffer from acute PDD, I think I may have made a serious tactical error when I decided to purchase a MacBook without considering the hippie factor.

Why MacBook, you ask?  For a few different reasons.  First, they’re supposed to be virtually indestructible.  Having had at least four PCs peter out on me over the past six years (and being in complete denial that it might be a user issue,) I thought it would be a good long-term investment.  Next, they’re supposed to be so user-friendly that a motivated monkey could build a website, start a business and become a mogul with one.  My my son refers to them as Fisher Price computers, so I figured it was the perfect fit for me, as I am a techno-tard.  Finally, product placement really works.  Opening my laptop and knowing that adorable little apple is lit up on the back of the screen makes me feel like Carrie Bradshaw.

So, off I went to the Apple store ready to spend whatever it would take to make my life easier (and, let’s be honest, to make me look cool.)

Have you been in an Apple store?  The place is crawling with overstimulated techno-hippie zombies.  They move in slow motion, staring at each of the products on the various tables as a choir of angels sings inside their heads.  Jockeying your way from the entrance to the Genius Bar while dodging them is like rollerskating through a daycare center with a gravel floor.

Side note: Do you think they were being sarcastic when they named it the Genius Bar?  I feel like maybe they’re kind of rolling their eyes and laughing at us behind our backs because we’re too stupid to figure out how to use our computers.

After completing my purchase, I scheduled an appointment to transfer the data from my PC to my shiny new MacBook.  On the scheduled date, I skipped into the Apple store with my antiquated PC and handed it and my shiny, hip new MacBook to one of the techno-hippie employees (an Appletini, if you will – they start talking and, before you know it, you’re drunk on Apple products.)

Me: Hi.  I’m here to drop off my PC for a data transfer.
Appletini: Your name?
Me: Donna Marshall
Appletini (punching up my information on wallet-sized handheld computer): OK, there you are Ms. Marshall.
Me (handing computers over to him): OK, cool.  Can I just wander around the mall until you’re done, or do you need me to wait here?
Appletini (tilting head slightly with just a hint of a giggle in his voice): Aren’t you precious!  (OK, so he didn’t say that, but I totally could tell he was thinking it) It’ll be ready Monday afternoon.
Me: Wait…what?  Today is Thursday.
Appletini: (blank stare)
Me (crushed): I guess I’ll see you Monday.

Monday?  Really?!?  I’ve seen my husband and son do data transfers in, like, 10 minutes.  How many computers are they working on back there?!?!

Four days later I picked up my computer.  One month later, I still can’t find most of my data on it.  Nor can I figure out how to create folders.  Or how to ‘undo’.  Or how to set up a signature on my emails.  Or how to cut and paste.

Fisher Price, my ass.

Part of the astronomical amount that I paid for my computer (which I’m pretty sure was about 25% of Trinidad’s GDP,) was a little something they call ‘One to One’ training.  Perfect, I thought, I can just pop in and they’ll walk me through everything like I’m a 4-year old!  I picked up my phone and called the store.  The 9-minute hold time (with a mix of reggae and hipster music!) should have been the first sign of things to come.

Appletini: Christiana Mall Apple store, this is Reese, how may I direct your call?
Me (excitedly): Hi!  I just bought a MacBook and I don’t have a clue how to use it.  Can I schedule a One to One (l can be there in 10 minutes)?
Appletini: You have to do that online (I don’t have time for this).
Me (deflated): Online?  You mean I just go to Apple.com and do it there (you can’t be serious)?
Appletini: Yes. You enter your Apple ID and password and it’ll walk you through the process (moron).
Me: Apple ID (this is a huge pain in my ass)?
Appletini: It was given to you when you purchased your computer (you blithering idiot).
Me: Oh…ok…I think I remember someone mentioning that when I bought the computer (no idea what you’re talking about, but I do remember getting a pile of paperwork not unlike what I encountered when I bought my house).

I was able to get an appointment A WEEK LATER.

After an hour with Camo (hand to God, that was his name,) I learned little more than how to navigate around the One to One website.  I saw him do all kinds of cool things, though.

Me: OMG!!  How did you do that?!?
Appletini: We’ll get to it eventually.  There’s a lot to learn; it’s best not to get overwhelmed. Be patient.
Me: (blank stare)

I think it might be in everyone’s best interest if I decided to forego further in-store training, opting instead to learn what I can from the One to One website and maybe consulting Google for the rest.  Google is more my speed; it never makes me wait more than a second for what I need.

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5 thoughts on “Impatient Cow

  1. PDD, I love it, and thanks fro giving it a name. The next time my husband is mid meal and I have the dishes done and am waiting patiently for his plate, and he gives me that are you for real look, I can respond, yes I am for real, and I have PDD, so give it up.

  2. The worst thing when you are about to blow your top is when the person with you gets all reasonable and calm and appeals to you to be calm and reasonable too. Instant murder. But then, if you are lucky: “You asked that she be tried by a jury of her peers, so we found 12 Italian-American women with PDD, and they say can we get on with it and actually can we just skip the trial and find her innocent the guy obviously deserved it and they all of them need to get home because The Jersey Shore is on in 25 minutes.”

  3. This cracks me up. Your sis officially has me addicted to your blog–need a new posting! Crap–I may need to admit I have a problem 😦

  4. Pingback: Hate-of-the-Art Technology « Stunningly Superficial

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