I have The Flu.
The phone rings. I look about for a bit. No-one leaps to answer it. Bugger.
Bonkers Woman: Windows is broken.
Me: [Pause]. How can I help?
BW: I’ve told you. It’s broken.
Me: I’m afraid I’ll need a little more than that. What EXACTLY has happened?
BW: Well it doesn’t work obviously. Why do you think I’m calling? Don’t you know? YOU put it on.
Me: Well, not me perso- [SIGH]. What is it you are trying to do?
BW: I have been writing a letter. I have printed it. And now I just want THIS to go away.
Me: You mean Word. You want to shut it down.
BW: Isn’t that what I just said? You must pay attention young man. How much do I pay you?
Me: Pay me? Nothi-[sigh]. Again. Tell me EXACTLY what is happening.
BW: Well. I go to close it. Click on the thing to close it. A box I don’t want comes up. I don’t want it so I click Cancel and around we go. This has taken half my day. It doesn’t work. This computer. With your Windows thing.
Me: [Long pause. I try and think about nice things. Like me not actually inventing Word and not being held personally responsible for its quirks.] You are trying to close a Word document?
BW: Well obviously. Good God young man, do you know what you’re doing?
Me: Mmmmm. When you click on the cross to close the application, do you then get a small window asking you if you want to save and giving you the options of ‘yes’, ‘no’ or ‘cancel’?
BW: Obviously. Can I speak to your supervisor?
Me: Mmmmmmmm. One moment. Do you keep clicking ‘cancel’?
BW: Well of course. WHAT ELSE WOULD I DO?
Me: Have you saved it?
MW: Do not take me for an idiot.
Me: THEN CLICK ‘No’.
MW: Mmmm. It seems to have fixed itself. Goodbye.
The Flu is very pressing, and I make my excuses. I go to the Chemists.
Me: I have The Flu. I require your best medicine.
Fat Chemist Woman: You don’t have the flu.
Me: [Taken aback] I bloody do.
FCW: Do you have a fever?
Me: Well. I’m quite hot.
FCW: You’ve got a jumper on. No wonder.
Me: Look. I’m not well. And I’ve not had much sleep. I just want to get through the day. I need some medicine. What have you got for The Flu?
Me: Is that a joke?
FW: The joke is your pretend illness. You are just like my husband. You’re about as ill as I am.
FCW: Do you want the pills or not?
I go back to my office.
With my pills.
She was fired a month later.