I get a new laptop.My old one was sloooow. Way too slow to handle the modern high definition pornography that is so necessary in today’s business world. I’m talking about the sick, demented, ultra high-resolution "Eeeew, what kind of sore is that?" stuff that gains one an empty row in coach class flights. Low definition porn lacks the seat clearing punch with today’s morally decadent travelers.
I blame the Archbishop of Canterbury for this.
Be that as it may, our new corporate overlords have a laptop replacement policy that states that a laptop can not be replaced before it becomes archeologically significant. Being a European company, their ideas of this are different from ours. Replaceable items would include the Ten Commandments and Stonehenge; not my hippo with mononucleosis-like 3.2GHz P4.
My God, people; there are dual core machines out there these days!
“No!” Brunehilde the Gargoyle from I.T. has macht eine ordnung. No laptop for me…
“But it’s really old!” I whine in my best put-out lout voice. She is immune to loutish whining and does not budge.
“May I have some Elmer’s glue then?”
Since it does not come from the I.T. budget I may.
I dollop it liberally on the bottom of my laptop and let it dry.
“Boss, can I see you? It’s about my laptop…” He nods and I place it in his lap.
“As you can see, it’s very slow.” He does not seem receptive, so I plow on.
“And the fan is out of balance, making the thing vibrate madly!”
“Pish and tosh!” He responds.
“No really, on the trip back from Dresden, I joined the mile-high club all by myself. Check the bottom.”
At the sight of the dried glue, he flings the hippo away from him.
“You broke my laptop!” I shout indignantly.
So, I get a new laptop, but have to pay for the glue.
Fair enough, I suppose.