"wallin' my ass in"
-Johnny_Vegas
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| Tech Support | | | Author: | | | IP: | slip-32-XXXX | | Date: | 05/11/02 06:05 | | Game Type: | Other | | Labels: | none | | Report Rating: , # of Ratings: 1, Max: 7, Min: 7
Lifetime Rating for psychochild: 6.4000 |  | Tech Support No two other words strike fear into the hearts of several, than Tech Support. Many people prefer to go through life without ever being forced to deal with the hassle of dealing with idiots who are actually supposed to help you. I rather have my father, the insane one in the family (Also the family genius, and official Mensa member scary enough) take a look at my delicate equipment, which says quite a bit.
Unfortunately, you can't outrun death, nor tech support, forever.
My friend David had to get Phantasy Star Online for his precious dreamcast. I could honestly care less, for I was playing Diablo on David's laptop (Phantasy Star Online is a direct rip-off of Diablo, Only Diablo's better) and watching those old Batman episodes with Adam West and Burt Ward as Batman and Robin over at his house (Only guy who had TV Land). Yes they were cheesy as hell, but they were fairly entertaining.
Anyways, I was getting really involved in Diablo. I had finally reached the entrance to Diablo's liar and opened the seal when A shrill voice raised from the heavens....
"JAMES! Get your ass over here!" I dropped the laptop onto the ground, and heard the earth-shattering crack of plastic against tile.
"Holy Batcomputer, Batman!" Robin piped from off-screen. (I'm dead serious)
I glared up from where I was sitting and stared at the short little gnome standing at the top of the stairs. I wouldn't have honestly mind. David's laptop is virtually indestructible. Its been in the rain, had orange juice spilled on it, grease stains on the screen.. a little drop like that would only freeze up his sticky warped potentially health threatening mini- pc. What really bothered me was that I never saved my warrior, because David is an evil little imp who wouldn't grant me the memory of 138 kbs......
I grumbled as I headed up the stairs and looked right into his face. "What do you want?" I grumbled, making sure to give him my most intimidating look.
"Can you help me with this?" He asked with a huge grin. He knew what he had destroyed....
I followed him into his room and waited for him to do his usual little crap where he tries to make his dreamcast look superior to my dinky N64. I looked at the system expectantly, and back at him. He was thrusting the phone in my face, and I knew what that meant.
"I AM NOT CALLING TECH SUPPORT!" I yelled, hitting the phone away from my visage. I already had to deal with them once when my pc modem fried out on me two years ago, and that was a three hour experience in itself before they gave up.
Let me clear something up with you here before we continue. I am the George Jetson of technology. The treadmill tries to eat me, I can't go outside without a hover car trying to crush my head in from the sky, and Rosie's currently neutering Astro in the kitchen sink.
That is why I avoid excercise altogether.
"Please!" he said, his voice cracking, and ruining my train of thought. You gotta love puberty.
I gave in after hearing him plead about a million times, and snatched the phone. Without thinking I dialed the number.
Welcome to my trip to Hell.
If you ever called Tech Support, you would know that now you have to spend one hour of your life listening to a droning female voice offer you various options to basically hang yourself. "Press one if you want to use a nylon cord. Press 2 if you want tech support for your Sega Dreamcast."
I listened for the stupid Robot lady for quite awhile. First we had to get through the fact I did NOT want to partake in SegaNet, Sega's own web service. Every two minutes she would remind me of Seganet. Maybe they were desperate or something, but whatever.
I finally found the right branch I needed to reach and selected it. Another five minutes of being on hold listening to that old damn song "Sunshine" By the Supremes, I think, I was then introduced to "Tim," or at least his overly peppy voice.
He sounded as if he's been eating instant coffee, something that I do regularly ever since I started going to high school and having to catch a 6 A.M. bus, so I know the signs.
"What seems to be the problem?" He asked, in his monotonous happy voice.
"My modem isn't working right," I muttered slowly and telling him every minor detail and error coming up. It'd be quite a list if I listed it here, so I won't.
"Is your Dreamcast turned on Sir?" He asked with a hint of mock concern. Apparently this must be a real stumper for most people. Or its some kind of idiocy test....
"Well gee, the little power light thing is on. Either my system's on fire or I'm doing something half ass...."
He didn't even wait to finish my answer.
He then suggested trying to dial the back-up number. As I only had one phoneline to work with, I muttered thank you, and hung up.
It didn't work.
I call back, go through the options, and I actually get the same guy again. Unfortunately, he recognized my voice.
"Why hello again!" He joked when I spoke up again. Oh yeah, REEEEEAL hysterical. I'm about to rip out your spleen with my bare han--..
"Did it work?" He asked. I kinda sit there dumbstruck for a moment. Maybe because I needed more coffee. Who the hell do they hire for this delicate work? Well, if it operated correctly, why would I be calling back to thank YOU? "No it didn't sir," I said, trying to be polite, even though my other eye was twitching about like a dying ant under a magnifying glass..
"Did you try making sure the modem's in? Are you interested in Seganet?" Pressed for time as he was, he was sure efficient..
"Yes the modem is in, the system is on, and I'm scratching myself all at the same time!" I express, mimicking his happy go lucky Disney tone. "And no, I'm not interested in Seganet. We have MSN already."
"OK, do you have the password and name of the account already in?" I glanced over at David, and mouthed the words that the merciless online diplomat here said. David smacked himself in the forehead, and I knew we had our match!
I abruptly hung up on the guy, rather than let him have the thrill of victory for stumping the two 15 year olds of today. We inputted the information, annnnnnd...
Connection Failed. Redailing in 9......8.......
I break down crying about now, resting my head against my forearm and curling up into the fetal position. I beg David to free me from this hell and call them himself. He's overly sensitive however with his voice, and forces me to do it. Doesn't help that he was an sinister bastard either. Damn me, the early sexy bass voice bloomer. With my free toe I set the phone to speaker phone and re-dialed the number for the 3rd freaking time, and blazed through the options. 1...1...2...1...3...4...1...2...1....5.
You tend to memorize idiotic stuff when you're about to kill the nearest living thing, which just happened to be David who was standing four feet away from me.
Joy.
God must have been punishing me for something, For when I was finally connected to a person, you guessed it. One again, I heard " Hello, this is Tim, are you interested in....
"Does anyone work there or what?! I thought feverishly to myself. I was about to ask that very question before he started harping about the wonders of SegaNet, and how it was far superior to any internet provider to date. The straw that broke the camel's back..
"Look you Idiot!" I whispered in a harsh voice into the speaker. "Either stop with the stupid questions, the imbecillic jokes, and the retarded salespitch, or I'll be forced to hunt you down and slap your bitch ass around like a Hanukkah goose on Passover!"
I admit it. I wasn't thinking clearly. Even worse I didn't even know anyone Jewish who can actually tell me if they even had goose on Hanukkah, or even if what I said make sense to them. I could have insulted him some how, or even worse, get arrested for harassment and verbal assault. I panicked for a moment, then I though to myself, "I'll just blame David here. His voice woulda changed by then..."
"....Check your POP Server, and make sure you actually have outside line disabled." Tim muttered, interrupting my thoughts of framing David here. Then he just hanged up.
Me and Dave quickly uploaded the Web browser and went through the options as he told us to. We checked the Pop Server, the Outside line. We also went over the account password, the account owner, account name, Back up number,EVERYTHING! Then, I inserted the coveted Phantasy Star Online disk, pressed the power button (TAKE THAT EVIL ONLINE DIPLOMAT!) made sure the modem was active, (See last comment) and went through the character selection screen. After choosing my personal favorite character Psychochild, I pressed the Online game option. The screen went black and soon resurfaced with the typical loading graphic that we're all familiar with by now....
"CONNECTION ATTEMPT FAILED"
I sinked back into David's itchy stupid cotton chair and I stared at the screen with a heavy heart. David letout a long, sad sigh as well. Not because he had worked as hard as I did to get this to get on going. Now he'd have to listen to another half hour of me having a nervous breakdown about calling that damned tech support again.
This is where I fell out of the chair, and smashed my head against David's bed, where I became unconcious for god knows how long.
I woke up when the amount of drool on my face started to really pile up (Literally, I ate skittles earlier). I got up off the carpet and went to see where David ran off to. I didn't have to go far, because he was right where he was two hours ago, trying to connect once more. Then it hit me..
"Dear god, go to the properties page." I said, glancing at the TV projection. I was pressing my nose against the glass of the television, leaving a huge nasty smudge, but I didn't care.
The long distance box! It was filled in wrong! I for once knew what I was doing!!
Then I forgot what I was here for, so I went downstairs and had a bowl of canned spaghetti-o's. Back up I went, and I remembered.
"Set the Long Distance box to nothing!"
David looked up at me, as if I was an idiot, or just insane. He wasn't too far off either, but he did as asked.
"Now save the damn thing! Try connecting now!"
David, despite the fact he had no idea in hell what I was getting to, did as I said and went through the standard phase. He selected his (COUGH CRAPPY COUGH) Character Omega and watched the screen...
Dialing...Dialing... Connected to server, loading...
Take THAT evil sega corportation!
Despite my victory, however, It was the biggest mistake I ever made. David played that stupid game for about 8 hours straight.
Some would say that the glow of the television screen on him while he was sitting in his boxers would be considered sexy. I considered it nauseating. I watched regardless, (the game, not David) and eventually shook my head and went down to watch BATMAN! Wanna know whats funny? Everytime there's a hot chick on the Batman set, you can see the "Dark Avenger" spring into action...
Epligoue If there was anything I learned today from my misadventure with tech support, I learned I'd never, ever, EVER do it again. The imbecilles are just way too many for my tastes. David meanwhile racked up about 240 hours the first month he got Phantasy Star Online actually Online. I lacked to see the appeal of it, but who am I to judge? I still play Diablo frequently.
I went back home on Sunday, and l heard through an anonymous source that David was mysteriously arrested for verbal assault. He was released with a warning though, and I still occasionally come over too. Me and him agreed to never mention this incident again, on the terms that I tell you my story, and warn future Conners of this ultimate threat to society. Now excuse me, my father has to go work on my mouse...
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