School and the Cr-48

As some of you well know, I am a student at a local university.  As most college students well know, classes are beginning to ramp up after the holiday break.  With my laptop confined to a docking station at home, with a dead battery and no true mobile life left in it, and a replacement still three weeks away, the Cr-48 will face its biggest task yet - being my primary school laptop for an online psychology course.  Will it rise to the occasion, and perform in my web-based classroom?  Or will I spend many a sleepless day catching up on schoolwork in my home office after a long commute home.  Only time will tell.

Also, in a completely unrelated twist, I've discovered that the Palm Pixi gets QUITE HOT when running the mobile hotspot app.  Taking the "hot" portion of that app name a little bit too seriously, aren't we Palm?

God, I thought I was paranoid.

Lady comes into my office today. Looks normal enough. Little did I know that I was about to be a witness to the strangest conversation of January 28, 2009.

"How can I help you, Ma'am?"

"I actually have a few questions" she replied. "I wanted to know whether you offer antivirus services. Is that something that you do?"

"Yes, that is a service we provide." I mumbled, pointing to the large desk sign listing our prices, with VIRUS AND SPYWARE CLEANUP - $149.99 in huge letters at the top. "Is there anything else that I might be able to assist you with?"

"Well, I was wondering...." she paused for a moment, seemingly unsure of whether she should continue. "I just wondered if you sell, like, one of those things?" She made a motion with her hands as she continued. "One of those things that can jam video cameras. I don't want you to think that I'm crazy or anything."

I stood there, speechless, as she continued. "I just want to make sure I'm completely safe when I go into changing rooms and stuff. You don't sell that kind of stuff, do you?"

Well damn lady, if I could work Hollywood style magic and make every videocamera and microphone in visual range of me black out, I'd be an effing millionaire, and my own best fricking customer. What the hell do you expect me to say to that?

"Uh, you might want to try the spy shop in Ardmore" I stammered. "If anyone has that kind of tech, it would be them."

"Oh, Thank you!" she gushed. "I'll check them out this evening!"

And then she was gone, only the clack of her stilletto boot heels remaining, echoing in my head as she headed down the stairs and out into the cold. What the hell?

I hate stilletto heels.