the sky, she is a falling

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it appears my laptop has crashed. and like everything else where i’m concerned, she has crashed in the most dramatic fashion. (cough, attention whore)

but really, if you’re going to go down, go down big, right? that’s always been my motto.

i don’t know what happened. i thought we were happy. i thought we had an understanding. every day for the last 2 years, i’ve sat down in front of nelly (that’s the name i gave her–the tv is telly–my stomach i call belly–the jam for my toast, jelly–i think you get the gist) with some sort of liquid beverage: in the morning, coffee; noon time, coke zero; evening, really must i say it? and stroked her keyboard til my heart’s content.

(i don’t know how i did it, but i just made using a computer sound like a cheap porno. i’ve never even watched porn on my nelly. ok, there was that one time but i couldn’t help it. midgets doing it is funny and those midget porn producers target weirdos like me. but that’s it, i promise.)

so anyway, i sat down sunday afternoon to, you know, do my business, and that’s when it happened. i powered her on (foreplay) and then instead of showing me the world, she gave me the middle finger in the form of a blue screen with this error:

unmountable boot volume

(who’s the perv now?)

unmountable? surely you jest.

boot volume? i’m not even wearing boots! and she’s never complained about the volume before. i’m loud. is this new?

the woman has gone mad. MAD i tell you!

i shut the top, paced the room, and then sat down in front of her again. “nelly,” i said, my voice quivering. “i’m sorry. whatever it is i did to upset you i’m sorry. please forgive me. i’m a schmuck. an insensitive, reckless, unappreciative schmuck. please say you forgive me. i need for us to be ok. are we ok? c’mon nelly, talk to me. show me the goods, er, i mean, you know i love you, don’t you?”

i opened her up again, rebooted, and got the same blue screen.

unmountable boot volume

“oh yeah, well fuck you too!”

and then i just walked away.

we haven’t spoken since. my stomach is in knots. i haven’t been able to sleep. i’ve really done it this time.

i thought we could get past anything. we’d been through so much already. there was the time that the e-man plucked off 17 keys from her keyboard. it was horrific. she looked so naked. she was so ashamed she wouldn’t even look at me. she had a keyboard transplant and was as good as new. then there was the time he (the same culprit) decided to pour an entire bag of sugar on her keyboard. you could hear her cries throughout the neighborhood (or maybe that was me) as i vacuumed and wiped and vacuumed some more.

but we made it.

and now this.

i picked up the phone and dialed the doctor, aka the computer guy. when i told him what was going on he audibly gasped and said, “ooh, that’s not good at all.”

desperately i shouted, “can you save nelly? er i mean, my non-living computing device for which i don’t have an unhealthy attachment to at all? huh, can you?”

he said, “i’ll be there in 30.”

true to his word, dr computer fix it man arrived, stethoscope and enema in hand.

(i made up the part about the enema. i threw that in there for tommy. he’s an old fashioned guy who grew up believing that a little pill up the bunghole cures all. sore throat? enema. sprained ankle? enema. cut your finger using a tomato knife? enema. frankly, the man is obsessed with them. maybe i should be writing less about my laptop and more on this subject? stay tuned)

i handed him nelly and said, “be gentle with her, kind sir.”

this time when i looked at him he wasn’t wearing his street clothes, but a red polyester footed bodysuit with matching cape. and patriotic music was coming from somewhere. it was weird.

his eyes sparkled, he smiled and winked at me, and then broke out in song. i don’t remember all the words to it, but basically it was about how he was going to make her better, make her happy again.

was it wrong to make out with him in the middle of my kitchen while ethan was pulling on my leg asking for yogurt? i didn’t think so either.

a few minutes later, i walked them both to the door. i stood there, said goodbye and then a single tear rolled down my cheek. i wiped it away and watched as they climbed in his ford mustang together.

funny, every guy who has ever fixed a computer of mine drives a ford mustang. what gives?

be well nelly! come home soon!