2big2move

I have never met the very large lady in the following story. Thank George Lucas!

It all began when a disgustingly dressed, putrid smoke smelling, bearded beast of a man brought an equally disgusting computer into the shop for repair. The beast explained in his primitive form of communication that the computer belonged to his wife, who was physically unable to leave the house. I didn’t inquire further. (I would discover soon after that a fellow technician had actually been to the lady’s house for a service call and would describe her as nothing less than GINORMOUS!) I instead asked what was wrong with the computer. He replied with a grunt and a shrug of the shoulders and handed me a piece of paper. I then understood that the immobile lady had written me a huge laundry list of things that were wrong with the machine. She also had taken the time to write that she needed the computer back ASAP. The beast then left, to my great nasal relief, and I took the machine to the back.

Now, if you’ve never smelt the inside of a smoker’s computer, consider yourself blessed. It is quite possibly the worst smell on the planet. It rivals the smell of an entire communities’ week old garbage piled high in the favella’s of Sao Paulo. The computer the beast left was as bad as they come.

After cleaning approximately five metric tons of yellow mutant dust from the inside of the case and a few intense hours of fixing the listed problems one by one, I believed the repairs were complete. Since this lady had been calling me for updates about her computer every hour, I was excited to call her and tell her it was done. Surely that would be the last time I would have to talk to her, she being as impossibly annoying and impatient as she is apparently large.

Not five seconds after hanging up the phone, she called back and proved to me that she is not only impossibly annoying and impatient, but stupid as well.

She started, “Oh, I remembered something I need to you test out for me. It’s really important that this works right.”

I responded with a depressed “Sure, no problem. What is it?”

She continued, “I need you to go to www.[someadultchatsite].com and make sure it lets me in. It was acting all weird before and I need to get back in.”

It was all I could do to refrain from laughing out loud! Apparently she is too large to provide for her desires in the real world, so she takes her biznass to the virtual one. I told her I would test the chat room and call her back. I went back to her machine, disabled graphics in the web browser, and logged in to the chat room. It worked, and I was surprised to see that of the dozens of people logged in to the chat, no one seemed interested in talking about The Dark Knight with me. Sad. I called her back, told her the good news, and beast man should be back any time now to take it back.

The moral of the story is triple-fold. First, don’t allow yourself to become “2big2move.” Second, don’t smoke next to your computer. And third, never, ever, ever, ever ask someone else to make sure that your adult websites are working properly. I mean, c’mon, don’t people realize that some people blog about such things?