Not that I believe in the paradigm of Heaven and Hell – in any sort of an afterlife, anyway; Heaven and Hell certainly exist but here, on Earth – but if I had to make a prediction, I would certainly go to Hell, straight to Hell, I would not collect $200. Or more appealingly, I would go straight to Hades. When Charon ferries me over the River Styx, I will pay my tribute and, once ashore, perhaps meet
Cerberus, the 3-headed dog that guards Hades and keeps the dead ‘in’. I WILL pet Cerberus despite generally not being a dog-person
(it depends on the dog) because I know what side of eternal damnation my bread is buttered on. Or something like that – WAY too many mixed metaphors and references here. Anyway, when I land in Hades maybe Persephone will be around, or if it is ‘That Time of the Year’ and she is off getting a mani-pedi with Demeter, I might be greeted by Hecate, or even Tartarus, who by the sound of his name never went to my, or any, dentist.
The less gentle version of what awaits me in an afterlife would be the Judeo-Christian concept of Hell. I imagine that, if I were to land in that Hell, Satan would
greet me with a copy of A Confederacy Of Dunces and command me, “Read this to its end”. I’d say, “Satan! It’s Yourself!” He would then look over the sheaf of papers that enumerated my life’s sins before responding, “Well, Julie, besides appropriating Irish expressions, you have been busy, haven’t you?! I see here that Canada Revenue, the IRS, and several credit card companies have been very eager to speak with you for some time. But you chose to wait, and you did not call them back. On top of that, are you aware that you have unresolved problems with Microsoft on your computer?”
Then, escorted by Azrael, a horde of County Sheriffs (hi, Sheriffs Mark Johnson and Jim Mason!); attorneys or other legal representatives; government officials on their way to my house with orders to evict me from my house; and Microsoft technical experts wanting to sell me a fix for that pesky Microsoft issue – all would approach me, engulf me, and I would disappear from view, forever. At least, that is the scenario hinted at when one of Those Calls comes through. You know the ones: if you have a phone, cell/mobile or landline, you’ve received them. Don’t lie to me.
During Those Calls, I’ve heard numerous threats of all the ills that can and will befall me if I or my legal representative do not phone immediately to deal with what my alleged, nefarious dealings with the Canadian and U.S. tax auditors hath wrought. The police have been dispatched and are likely already on their way with warrants to arrest me if I don’t phone – and it is always a long distance number – with intent to pay what I, apparently, owe them. One message from a “sheriff”, however, described in copious detail what horrible fate would “befall” me (the term he actually used) should my legal representative not call within 24 hours, before he wished me a blessed day. I kept that message for a week, it made me smile so…
The call that I describe below came one morning as I was preparing my pre-swim breakfast, The phone rang and the weird, no-caller-ID number signaled that it was a scammer. My first impulse was to let it go to voicemail, but then I thought better of it. I had already received several of those calls that week and, sufficiently fed up, I was in the mood to play.
I answered with a polite “hello”. The man on the other end worked for Microsoft, he said, and apparently there was a problem with my computer. I put him on speakerphone:
Me (cutting up pears): “Oh, no! What is the problem with my computer?”
Microsoft Rep (MR): “We have received an alarm that someone has tampered with your computer and is stealing your files and important information.”
Me (throwing pear cores into compost): “How do you know?”
MR: “We know, ma’am. We get an alert when someone breaks into your computer.”
Me: “But my computers are turned off. Does my IP address send off some sort of alert? How do you know? If there is a problem, will it cost me money to fix it?” My voice rises slightly, hinting at imminent panic.
[I need to state here that these guys likely fill their own humorous blogs with the shit that people like me – i.e., tech-ignorant – come up with during calls that reveals their (my) utter lack of knowledge regarding computers. What I don’t know about computers, devices which I have used – yea, RELIED heavily upon – daily, for decades, would fill volumes that would never, ever be converted to digital files because I would never, ever be able to accomplish such a task unaided. And lest you are thinking that these callers are ‘just trying to make a living‘, I will stop you right there and remind you that their JOB is to bilk people out of their money. Also, the people on whom these scammers prey? They are people such as a lovely man of my acquaintance who escaped the violence of El Salvador twelve years ago (after his brother was killed) and migrated legally to Canada. He received a call from the Fake Canada Revenue Agency and was terrified by unjustified threats of arrest and deportation made against him by these scammers. He paid five hundred dollars, money that he worked very hard for and could ill afford to part with, to discharge this nonsense fee. Or our neighbor’s elderly father who had to pay out a good chunk of cash to free his computer from ransomware. These might be good people in a bad situation calling you, but these callers are NOT doing good things. Their job is to fuck you over. So fuck that. But I’m still going to Hell.]
MR: “Ma’am, we are Microsoft and we work to protect your computer. We can help you fix your problem. I need you to go and turn on your computer, now. (Pause) Ok, ma’am, what do you see on your screen now?”
Me, scooping yogurt onto my chopped pear: “I just turned My computer on. It has to warm up.”
MR: “Let me know what you see on your screen when it has warmed up.”
Me, my voice rising with an edge of hysteria creeping in, but do I neglect to replace the yogurt in the fridge? I do not.: “Are you going to charge me money to fix the problem? What is the maximum amount of money that I might possibly have to pay to fix my problem?” [NB: The actual answer to that last question does not actually exist.]
MR: “We have identified the problem for free, ma’am, and it probably won’t cost any money to fix it.”
(We go back and forth until he admits it may cost me something, probably a ‘only’ couple of hundred dollars but then, after a little pressing on my part…)
MR: “…I don’t believe, truly, that it will cost more than $399 dollars. OK. (pause) Now, what do you see on your computer screen?”
Me, stunned that I got an actual dollar figure from this guy, start drizzling honey from my honey bear onto my yogurt-pear mixture: “I’ve got updates. They need to load.”
MR: “Updates?”
Me, now drizzling my name with the slow stream of amber honey: “Yeah, updates, 7 of them. It will take a few minutes.”
MR: “OK, ma’am, tell me when they are finished.”
I pour some homemade granola onto my yogurt, take my bowl and the phone to the table, still on speakerphone, and I start to eat. I even continue reading the Harry Potter book I’m re-reading for the umpteenth time. The granola is crunchy. Harry Potter and Hermione are clever and brave. Nothing like a peaceful breakfast with an impatient tech’s breathiness providing background sound.
MR: “Ma’am? Are the updates finished loading?”
Me, trying not to talk with my mouth full: “No, they’re still loading. It’s on update #4.”
MR: “OK.” (Pause for a few minutes) “And now? Are they finished?”
Me, getting to the bottom of the bowl: “Oh, darn, my computer froze. I need to reboot.”
MR, starting to get a little huffy: “Does this happen often, ma’am?”
Me, placing a bookmark and closing my book: “It’s an old computer. I’m… rebooting. Ah, it’s starting to load the first update again!”
MR: “Hrrumph.”
I clean up my breakfast things and assemble my swim gear while this man waits. About 35 minutes have elapsed since informed of my non-existent computer issue and it is time for me to end this.
Me: “Okay, all updates are finished. You know what? There’s a guy on my block who works for Microsoft. I think I’ll talk with him about this. Good-bye!”
I hung up the phone and went to the pool to start my day.
I Started the Prozac In Paris 