How much flack must we tolerate from these machines before we shut them off? Really.
I give mine a little credit. It occasionally says, “Please wait.” But it takes too long. I thought the whole purpose of using a personal computer was to get things done faster.
“You can’t sign in to your PC right now” may be the rudest way ever to greet someone in the morning. Who says I can’t? I paid for it. And the electricity, and the wireless. Don’t tell me I can’t sign in.
It thinks it knows how to spell every word I write, too. I’ve sent some pretty stupid-sounding messages on Facebook when letters were changed seconds after I typed them, and I didn’t catch it, like the time “FB” magically turned into “FBI.” That’s the pot calling the kettle black.
Then it presumes to know me in my friends’ pictures. I believe I’ve been identified as someone else more times than as myself.
I’ll admit it thanks me for entering the HGTV Dream Home Sweepstakes twice a day for two months, five years in a row. But if you really mean it, give me the house!
And one more thing. We’ve never been properly introduced. Why does it think emails should be allowed to address me as, “Margaret?” We’re not on a first name basis. “Margaret, we’ve missed you.” “Margaret, you need to finish filling out your order.” “Margaret, check out Imelda Smitzpickle’s new skills on LinkedIn.” Eleven-year-olds at school used to do a better job than this laptop as far as respecting their elders. Waitresses who say: “you guys” are more courteous — at least they bring you food.
“Your computer needs to be updated,” it informs me. I say, “Why don’t you add some manners to your chip?” Then maybe we’ll talk.