Technology, Like Women, Must be Rubbed Before They Turn On

I finally trudge my way to Mr. Howell’s office and stand, intentionally, just at the door not budging inward.

“Yes, Sir.” I say with the most disgust and annoyance anyone can utter–but with a smile, of course.  Again, I’m not even post-positive that Mr. Howell understands the magnitude of the needy odor that exudes from his body.

“I can’t seem to turn on my computer.” Mr. Howell looks so helpless as he continues to push the on and off power button of his new Dell XPS Desktop.  He is pushing buttons and rocking it and hitting it on the side.  He is so frantic.

“Wait-a-minute!” I step in to the rescue.  I touch his hand sincerely and step beside him.  I have to remind myself that things that come easily to me, and seem second nature, are not necessarily so for others.  My duty as a human being is not to remind others how smart I am, but to encourage them to see the greatness within themselves.

“I’ve done everything I know how to do.  I’ve unplugged it and plugged it back in.  I’ve held the on and off switch.  I can hear it running, but it just will NOT turn on.  It’s as if there is some sort of disconnect.”  I really get no joy in mocking him when he is like this.  I’m accustomed to him calling me for utter nonsense, but computers are something that just doesn’t click for everyone.

I hear the computer running and I look up at the monitor.  The light is not on.  I rub my hand along the bottom of the monitor as if I am looking for a loose cord or something.  I allow my thumb to slightly, but without detection, push the power button on the monitor.  I then ask Mr. Howell to push the power button on the desktop tower.  When it comes on, I simply look at him and say “Technology is like women.  Sometimes they have to be rubbed in order to turn them on.” I give him a smile and touch his shoulder as I walk away and out of the office.

As I walk up the stairs, I feel a vibrating sensation from my hip.  I look at my phone and see a text from one of my best friends, Travis Bryant.  The concert is sold out.

I run up the stairs, hurry to my office and dial his number in a frantic.  “What do you MEAN they are sold out? I thought we agreed that we would buy the lawn tickets!”  This is the concert of the decade scheduled to take place at the Taliaferro County Amphitheater.  The concert will have Boy George, Debbie Gibson, Paula Abdul, and so many more classic ’80s groups and singers.  We have waited ALL year to see this.  Travis is married and his wife, Denise, is such an endearing, sweetheart.  She’s an introvert.  So, concerts are just not her immediate cup of tea.

“Yes, Luv! Sold out!.”  Travis is from Riverside, California.  He has been in Taliaferro for about 10 years.  He is a Thespian and we met and connected on the set of The Man Who Came to Dinner.  He played the flamboyant and outspoken Beverly, and I played the giggly, meddling Ms. Dexter.  We instantly clicked.  It was a friendship made in Heaven, crafted, molded and placed here on earth, just for us.

“You mean the GRASS is sold out!  What you are telling me, is that there is NO more room….on the GRASS!” I say in sarcastic disbelief.

” Yes, Honey.  NO grass room!” He belts back at me while laughing.  It is awesome when friends actually get you.  I mean, really get you and who you are about.  I am making jokes and laughing, but kind of down about missing the concert.  I have just started going out and I’m trying to have some place to go on a regular basis.  I live vicariously through my relationship with Travis.  He is married, yes, but Denise is not at ALL threatened by our friendship.  As she shouldn’t be.  Travis ADORES his Denise and I admire and love the way they love each other–would break the kneecaps of anyone who dares try to intervene.  I have stayed the night with Travis and Denise and have crawled in the bed between the both of them.  They are like my brother and sister.  When you truly understand the dynamics of a relationship, and you truly cherish what God has put into your life, you understand how wonderful it is and never want THAT to end.  Travis and I have gone out to dinner, we’ve gone to movies, plays and so much more.  As a matter of fact, my first date of choice, presently, is Travis.   He gets me and I never have to put up the relationship wall.  Since the concert is sold out, we have to now find some other alternative.  Just as I’m about to speak a come-back, I hear footsteps approaching. Keith is on his way in.

“Hey, Beautiful.” Keith sings to Salina as he walks by her desk and peeks his head into my office.

Never looking away from my computer monitor, and continuing to type this last letter, I acknowledge his presence at my door. “Yes, Keith.  What can I do you for?”

“You know I hate when you do that.” He murmurs as he walks completely in and plops into the brown, leather, over-sized chair in my room next to the lamp and the coffee table–also, two items acquired from the handy, local thrift store.  Despite Keith’s seemingly pompous attitude, my heart really goes out to him.  He is sorta like the one-hit wonder band who is always looking for that next hit.  Sure, he does get the occasional small personal-injury claim or the misdemeanor criminal court cases, but he is still seeking for that Top 10 thrill.  The problem with these bands is that they always appear as though they think they are more than they really are.  I see past all of that.  I know that no one has to tell him that he hasn’t had a big case in years.  I don’t have to tell him that his budget does not give him the option to shop at Ross for less, but his budget REQUIRES he does so.  I have grown as a person enough to realize that, when people are down and are going through, no one around them has to beat the “dead horse when it is down.”

I guarantee you that personal failures personally remind you of their existence, daily.