Mein Gott, sometimes I think that whatever it is that runs this Universe has a thing against me. Maybe that's too harsh, it's probably something more like that whatever runs the Universe shares my mischevious sense of humor (what a frightening thought!). Either way, strings of events have happened to me that simply defy logic. I'm sure that you're saying, "Tim, everybody has strange unrelated occurences that defy all human reasoning." You're probably right; the Universe is probably conspiring against you too.
The first string happened before I left for college. When I
got my smegging cool computer, it came with no restore CDs and a form letter. The
form letter said that they had run out of restore CDs and I had to call Distribution to
get them. All right then, I call Distribution and bring it up. The lady at the
other end of the line (who was very nice and shared no blame for this occurence) didn't
have an idea what was going on. From her I deduced that the restore CD programming
was being updated and so they weren't sending out more until the new version was complete.
She said I could either go to Research and Development and buy the new version, or
go to Tech Support and get the old version for free. I didn't want to pay for
something I should've gotten for free anyway, so I went to Tech. The man I was
transferred to (also very kind and blameless) informed me of an internal memo that said,
in essence: "Problem: form letter sent to customer explaining lack of CDs
and telling them to call number. Solution: tell misguided customer to go to
Internet site." So I thanked him, went to the Internet site, put in my serial
number, and... was promptly told I was not eligible for the free restore CDs.
"Screw this!" I gave up.
Later, I put a few old DOS programs on my Übercomputer. I should
have done my homework and found out that XP had no DOS legacy programming before
I started putting on things like Crusader: No Remorse and System Shock 1.
Lo and behold, I kill the sound on my computer. After resolving massive and
comprehensive device conflicts, my sound card still wouldn't work. There were no
memory allocation conflicts, the drivers were enabled, but the drivers were not
"turned on." How the hell am I supposed to turn on a driver? Strip?
Foreplay not being my strong suit, I uninstalled the drivers and reinstalled
them... five times.
Time to go to Tech Support. A very forgiving and blameless
subcontinental Indian with a thick accent and a tendancy to speak quickly helped me
through my troubles by doing exactly the same things I had already done--that's what I get
for knowing standard TS protocol. He finally told me that I should use my restore
CDs... you know, the ones I didn't have. I informed him of this, he checked
the Internet, and said I was eligible. After apologizing to him profusely, I banged
my head against the table and ordered those damn CDs.
I waited and waited and waited for those CDs, waited until the week
before I had to go to SLU. Time was running short and I needed those CDs.
Turns out the Post Office had been holding our mail because my mom thought we'd be
picking up my sick grandmother from New York. Luckily, she picked up the mail just
in time for me to restore my computer before we left.
The second group of incidents happened just after I was settled into Saint Louis University and my parents were hundreds of miles safely away. One Sunday, the alarm woke me up and I thought it'd be a good idea--because my bed is up on risers and the alarm clock is on a small dresser underneath it--to lean over the side and turn off the alarm, when I promptly fell out of the bed. Deciding to do my laundry, I collected the bag, my keys, and my wallet and walked down thirteen flights of stairs to the laundry room, where all the machines were coin-operated. Leaving my laundry in the room, I walked back up to the lobby to use the coin machine, which just happened to be out of service. Cursing mildly to myself, I walked to the parking garage to my car to get two dollars in change, and promptly locked myself out of the car. At least having the money, I started my laundry and then went back up to my room to get a wire hangar. This required me to beat on the door until my groggy and forever-forgiving roommate opened it. Having retrieved the hangar, I returned to my car and attempted in vain for fifteen minutes to open the damn thing. After that miserable failure, I went to the garage attendant and told the Department of Public Safety (DPS) cop that I had locked myself out. He radioed for assistance, and soon another DPS cop showed up to break into my car. After trying with a Slim-Jim for maybe four minutes, he gave up and left me outside my locked car. After surprising the DPS cop back at the desk (because, apparently, the guy who tried to get into my car was the best), we called another mobile unit for help. He showed up, and, thankfully, opened my car up in under a minute with no damage to the electronic door locks. I then returned to my unstolen laundry and finished it--all before 0945. Needless to say, my day improved from then on.
Well, that's my essay. A wise man once said, "Life sucks and then you die." I'd like to modify it into what I call the Emily Dickenson Mode of Existence: "Life sucks, you bitch about it, you go mad, and then you die." Now that my life has sucked (albeit mildly) and I've bitched about it, all I have to look forward to is insanity and death. Whoop-de-freakin'-do.