Wednesday, May 26, 2010


You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you.
Ray Bradbury

By Kelley Williams

My husband bought a laptop the other day and spent $300 on a warranty.

"$300!" I cried. Literally. I cried.

"Don't worry. If I shoot my computer it's covered," he said.

"That's ridiculous. Why would anyone shoot their computer?" I said with much eye rolling and went upstairs to turn on our desktop computer so that I could write another fabulous story for my legions of adoring fans.

And for like the thousandth time since we bought it, it decided to be a total jerk: freezing up, crashing, saying my documents don’t exist, not opening the internets, then opening twenty internets, running updates for programs we don’t even have.

And then I completely understood why someone would shoot their computer. In fact, I wasn’t sure why this hadn’t occurred to me before. So I went out to buy a gun to do said shooting. But before I could begin, I realized I didn't have $300-shoot-your-computer warranty for my desktop.

So I lugged my jerky (jerky as in it's a jerk, not jerky as in awkward movements, or as in dehydrated meat. I'm not going to eat my computer. Try to keep up, please.) to Best Buy and said I wanted to purchase the $300-shoot-your-computer warranty so I could shoot my computer.

The Best Buy smurf (why does Best Buy make their employees dress like smurfs?) said, "so you want to redeem your warranty?"

"No. I don’t have a warranty,” I said with much exasperation. "Well actually, I don't know if I have one. We may have gotten a warranty when we bought the computer. But probably not because my husband hates, loathes, warranties, - except of course for the $300-shoot-your-computer warranty he recently purchased - so I'm guessing we didn't buy one. But now that you've invented shoot-your-computer warranty I want to purchase it."

Best Buy smurf: "You want to shoot your computer?”

Me: “Yes.”

Best Buy smurf: “Why?”

Me: “Because it’s jerk.”

Best Buy smurf: “Your computer’s a jerk?”

Me: “That’s what I said.”

Best Buy smurf: "I'm sorry, I don't understand."

Me: "I want to shoot my computer. It's not that complicated. Sheesh."

Smurfy got all panicked looking and reached for the we've-got-a-crazy-lady button under the counter. "Relax,” I said. “I'm not going to shoot it here. I'm going to shoot it at home, where there aren't any witnesses. Because it's probably going to be bloody. And some people faint at the sight of blood. And I really don't like to make people faint. I'm nice like that. Unless a witness is required to redeem the warranty, then I'll shoot it here and all the faint-hearted will just have to deal with it."

Smurfy looked less relaxed, so I reached in my purse to hand him some gum, because the act of chewing gum releases tension, and less tense smurfs are able to deal with women who ask for shoot-your-computer warranties (wipe that dubious look off your face, it’s totally true. I read it somewhere, probably Wikipedia, or maybe I just made it up. I don’t remember). But before I could pull out my gum I was tackled by five smurfs, which really is not as awesome as it sounds, and I was like, "relax people, I was just going for my gum," but it came out sounding like "gun" because my face was shoved into the floor by a food happy smurf who apparently does think jerky computers mean dehydrated meat and is only working at Best Buy for the food. I was jerked, as in awkward movement, to my feet, escorted to the door and banned from Best Buy forever.

Needless to say I was a might ticked off. Not because I was tackled by smurfs, nor because I was banned from Best Buy, nor because they were holding my desktop hostage, but because my need to shoot a computer was unsatisfied.

So… I went home and shot Mark’s computer.

He doesn’t know yet, so please don’t tell him. I’m pretty sure when he finds out it will be the second time I see him mad. Until he realizes it was a suicide – cuz that’s how I made it look – and then he’ll probably just be sad. Unless $300-shoot-your-computer warranties don’t cover suicides, in which case – can I come stay with you?

Editor's Note: Some parts of this story may be kinda, sorta, a little bit fictional. However, the first three paragraphs, minus the literal crying, are 100% true. There is a warranty out there that will replace your computer if you shoot it. What is this world coming to?

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