One day long ago, back when I was still making ten bucks an hour working home health—and ten bucks for ten minutes of proofreading my Swedish publisher’s filthy dirty stories—I took a lunch break from fooling around with a new clipart package and watched an on-demand episode of The Big Bang Theory. Something interrupted me, and I left the show running to check on my computer.
I got distracted again, of course, so the show ran out, and the station reverted to a news channel. The headline was an incident with the commuter train out east and speculation as to what happened. I remember talking back to the anchors about the investigators failing to take the first and most obvious step.
“What is your major malfunction? Just get the guy’s cell phone records, for crying out loud.”
That report wound down, and I stopped paying attention until they brought on Bill Gates.
***
I do not like that man. I have never liked that man. Listening to him pontificate about the wisdom of handing all his cash to some foundation with nary a dime for his kids and how he was getting his cronies to do the same—I’d had just about enough. I got up to walk back around the desk and turn off the ancient remote-control-less TV, wondering for a moment what he looked like.
“Yep. Same ugly mug I remember. Bye!”
I clicked off the set and went back to work.
***
Six o’clock rolled around, and I nuked some dinner, intending to watch another Big Bang episode while I ate. I clicked the on button. The screen lit up perfectly for ten seconds, then went dark.
“Aw, hell, what did I do now?”
I assumed I’d disturbed something in the snake pit of cords and cables under the desk, so I started flicking power bar switches and unplugging/plugging in things, but to no avail. Half a dozen tries, and all I got was on-off.
***
“Hello, Best Buy? My old TV did this, and I tried that and then this other thing. Six times. No luck. Is it dead?”
“As a doornail. What size are you looking for? We have a big sale—”
“No, thanks. Bill Gates’ll just break that one, too.”
“What?”
“Never mind.”
I hung up, called Verizon, and began honing my negotiation skills.
***
“Look. You’re charging me $100 for internet, phone, and cable. Cable TV’s thirty-five. Cancel cable, charge me sixty-five, and we’re good to go.”
“On word of caution, Ms. Levison.”
“What’s that?”
“Don’t boot up any interviews with Gates on the internet, else he might break your PC, too.”
