I don't have Photoshop on my new computer. Otherwise this image would probably have been funny as hell.

File this post under “I’m Not Fucking Kidding” and “Even My Twisted Brain Couldn’t Have Thought of This.”

Perhaps I need a new category called “I Shit You Not.”

Hello my little wannabe negativists. Today I regale you with a tale that illustrates, without question, why I am the all-time Guru of Negativity. If you have the mental wherewithal, step inside my head and see what it’s like to be in my shoes.

The story begins last Friday…

Friday after work I picked up my iMac from the local authorized Apple factory repair shop. Lo and behold, the thing was finally fixed, and only after 15 business days. Three full weeks.

But…

There was a new problem. The fan now ran at full speed and the covenant of a super-quiet computer had been broken. The thing sounded like a vacuum cleaner.

I would have asked, “Why me?” but I don’t much care for asking questions where I already know the answer.

So Monday morning I schlepped the thing back into the shop.

That’s when this conversation took place:

Me: This thing has already been here 15 business days. Will you escalate this for a fast turn around time?

Employee #1: This sort of thing shouldn’t take long.

Employee #2: I can escalate you to some Pampers.

Me: Eh? Er, what???

Employee #2: Some poopy Pampers I just found in the parking lot. Seriously, can you believe people??

You’re preaching to the fucking choir, lady. But, more importantly…

WHAT IN THE MOTHERFUCKING HELL??????

These are the people that Apple hires to provide my warranty repair?

I am not making this up!!! That was the conversation. Verbatim. No embellishment. No artistic license. No lie.

At times, like when shit like this happens to me, I seriously doubt that I’m alive. I figure this reality must be some kind of mind fuck and I’m already dead and gone and shipped to Hell. And part of that Hell is that I don’t get to know it. Makes it so much more delicious and sublime, eh?

So yeah, neither employee bothered to actually answer my question. At this point, I had fucking had it. I decided to be more proactive about my repair.

I called them Monday at 1pm. “Is this Tom?” they asked. They were beginning to recognize the sound of my voice. Good!

“It might be ready today,” I was told. Yeah, I’ve heard that happy crappy before. Lies.

I waited all afternoon for the call that never came.

Then I did something brilliant. I got off work and drove directly to the shop. I walked in and they said, “Here ya go! All fixed.”

Fuck. Were you ever going to let me know that? Assholes. Thanks for the call.

“The piece of tape must have come loose. I re-taped it.”

That’s it? That’s an all-repair for you motherfuckers? And what’s this about a “piece of tape?” The fate of my iMac hangs in the balance over a piece of fucking tape? Jesus Christ!!!

Conclusion: The thing seems fixed. But I know I can’t trust my own senses. We’ll see. And that shop was one of the worst things to ever happen to me in my whole life. The hate in me in swelling.

This is the sort of shit that happens to me. Hopefully you can now begin to see how I reached Guru status.

This post written with a Mac.