The Very Helpful Computer Guys

I just got off the phone with Jack, a nice young man from India who was kind enough to give me a call from his number 99-999-9999. He said that my computer had been attacked by a very bad virus and that I needed his help. He would show me what to do.

Well, I was all for that as I hate viruses. I asked him what he was selling and was surprised and pleased to discover he wasn’t selling anything. He just wanted to help me find out the problem I was having with Windows.

First he had to identify my computer so he gave me its Windows ID number. It was, and I quote, “888D(as in Delta)C(as in Charlie)A(as in apple)60F(as in Foxtrot)C(as in Charlie)0A(as in apple)11C(as in Charlie)F(as in Foxtrot)8F(as in Foxtrot)0F(as in Foxtrot)000C(as in Charlie)048D(as in Delta)7D(as in Delta)062.

So we got that figured out.

Turn on your computer, Jack advised me. It was already on. Then he told me to press the Windows key and the letter R at the same time and tell me what I saw. I did this and saw nothing on the screen. He asked me to do it again and again and I did and still, no small box on the screen where there should have been one.

Finally, an older guy came on the phone, maybe Jack’s Dad. He again urged me to press the keys and report what was coming up. I did and nothing came up.

So I asked this guy, probably Jack Sr., “What company do you represent?” and the strangest thing happened. My phone went dead instantly.

I am worried. I hope Jack and his Dad are alright. They seemed like pretty nice guys. Now I’m stuck with this rotten virus I didn’t know I had.

Rats.

Darned phone lines between India and Canada.

©2013 Jim Hagarty

Author: Jim Hagarty

I am a 72-year-old retired journalist, busy recovering from a lifelong career as an unretired journalist. This year marks a half century of my scratching out little fables about life. My interests include genealogy, humour and music. I live in a little blue shack in Canada and spend most of my time trying to stay out of trouble. I am not that good at it. I also spent years teaching journalism. Poor state of journalism today: My fault. I have a family I don't deserve, a dog that adores me, and two cars the junk yard refuses to accept. My prized possessions include my old guitar and a razor my Dad gave me when I was 14 and which I still use when I bother to shave. Oh, and my great-great-grandfather's blackthorn stick he brought from Ireland in the 1850s. I have only one opinion but it is a good one: People take too many showers.