Ladies Glow

It is Monday, and it is hot. I am at the Apple store in Regent Street. I’ve been at work on my book ‘Mosaic Masterclass’ but something is wrong with the computer. It has almost no available memory. I am trying to ditch folders to free up space but they will not delete. I have come into town for help, full of a mixture of optimism and desperation. ‘Don’t worry’ says a fresh faced young man ‘it couldn’t be easier. Let me show you’.

He drags an item to trash. ‘You must drag the folder to trash’ he says. ‘There you go’ he says, depositing the folder in the virtual waste paper basket.

‘But why is it still there?’ I ask.

‘Oh, that’s strange!’ he says. ‘Let’s do it again.’ He does it again. ‘There!’ he says, triumphantly.

‘But it’s come back again’ I observe, and he begins to look frustrated. ‘Hmm. That’s odd. You may have overstretched the capacity of your memory. Perhaps I had better book you in for an appointment with one of these guys.’ He points at a line of t-shirted geeks. ‘We don’t have one until Thursday, I’m afraid.’

‘I’m sorry’ I say. I am at the edge of an abyss. I believed all would be well. Now I am filled with despair. A black fog engulfs me.

‘You murderess’ he says.

I look at him with surprise.

‘Your e-mail address’ he repeats. I laugh nervously.

I have elected to wait. I am ‘on standby’. There are others on standby in front of me.  ‘It will be at least two hours,’ an assistant confirms.

While I wait, I am backing up onto a hard drive. The computer is on my lap. It is very hot. The hard drive is beside me. It is a whirring radiator. I am melting, but I cannot leave my seat. A foolish phrase thumps through my pulsing head — ‘Horses sweat, men perspire, ladies glow.’ Ladies expire, I think.

It has been two and quarter hours. ‘We do apologise. We have a bit of a log-jam’ says a smiling young woman. ‘Would you like a glass of water?’

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3 Responses to “Ladies Glow”

  1. I can relate. The capacity of my memory is stretched every day.

  2. Sorry, did you just say something?

  3. Computers are the most wonderful things in the world…until they’re not! Then they become the most hateful, spiteful things in the world. Sort of like husbands. (Um, did I say that out loud?!)

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