Showing posts with label power supply. Show all posts
Showing posts with label power supply. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 12, 2019

Who Let lefty Out Again?

Go piss up a rope - I do get out sometimes.

After bringing death to a bunch of computers, laptops, and android devices, I had to buy Stuff to fix the lot of them. The quickest stop was Best Buy (uh-oh) - this was my first mistake. I researched everything I wanted online first, so I knew what I was getting. This was my second mistake.

Walk into most stores and it goes one of two ways: Can I help you with anything or IF I WAVE MONEY, WILL SOMEONE PLEASE TAKE CARE OF ME? I prefer the latter, which is what I got. This was my third mistake. I did enjoy floundering about, like Michael Moore in a candy store that doesn't really have lots of different kinds of candy in it, but it's still entrancing.  The Humongo Size TV setup, that comes with a couch and coordinated lamps, was playing Bohemian Rhapsody. The actor playing Freddie had huge, ugly pores.

But seriously, folks, I needed an SD card. And if I could remember which one I needed, I'd be in good shape. There were SDs, SDUHCs, SDFUs, and Spiderman Special SD-Xs. Plus they have grades or some other rating system, which covers how fast they fall when dropped into Niagara Falls. I went for the fastest faller because I'm that kinda guy.

The it was Mouse Time.
I would have done better going to The Mouse House in Florida, Home of Mickey, built by a rabid antisemitic called Roger Waters Walt.
We know I've been around a bit. When mice first hit the stores, they were ridiculously expensive and large. I liked them. Unfortunately you could not find a large mouse if your life depended on it. They're all varying degrees of tiny, like a convention of Small People. Then there are the portable ones, which are even smaller. Children benefit from this, but not adults (or large children with big hands, like me). I found one off-brand wired mouse. Little did I know I was only getting warmed up.

With fear and trepidation, I made it to the final department. I was brave, though; I didn't take the blindfold or the cigarette. I wanted a generic 24" monitor. This was the mistake that would be my previous mistake plus one (I think we're up to four now).  There were certainly a lot of monitors. They were certainly hooked up to a lot of computers. Few were for sale, just the ones that had prices that dwarfed the price we paid for our last few cars. The formula seems to be that a 24" monitor costs $150, but call it a 24" Gaming monitor and you can charge $599 for it.

I had no choice but to flag down a Helpful Sales Consultant.
Unfortunately they were all out of Helpful Sales Consultants. There weren't even any Generally Pissed Off or Grumpy Sales Consultants. I stood there, counting down until it was time to use the phrase, "IF I WAVE MONEY, WILL SOMEONE PLEASE TAKE CARE OF ME?" It was then that I discovered the secret to good service: be a woman. An attractive one. I noticed that the Helpful Sales Consultants, all male, were 'taking care of' attractive females, who had trouble telling left from right. Fortunately for them, they have two breasts, or all hell would break loose. Due to my inability to be a woman, good or bad looking, my temperature started going up. I thought of all sorts of interesting ways to either attract a Helpful Sales Consultant or put on a show so good, they'd talk about it for years (and I'd be banned from every Best Buy on the east coast).

Funny, there sure were lots of employees on and about the phones. Some were talking to the People Known as Customers, but most were doing what they do best: standing around, getting paid, and laughing with other employees about the sad state of the stock market these days and the poor suckers trying to get their attention.  Five of them were holding hands in a circle, dancing around a cash register, performing some sort of ritual, designed perhaps to attract more customers (that they wouldn't acknowledge). Another two were having oral under a counter. Or they might've been eating dinner... same thing.

FINALLY I located a Helpful Sales Consultant who looked like he knew what he was doing (he was over 17). He was with someone else, but promised to send another Helpful Sales Consultant over for me. Of course he lied, but everybody felt better for those five seconds. While waiting for this alleged help, two more employees came by, with two more attractive women. What I wouldn't do for a vagina at that point (I always say that). FINALLY someone else came over, strictly by accident. Had he heard someone needed help, he'd be over playing with the Barbies. Still.

I told him what I wanted and he looked at me like I was a blithering idiot and what specific specs did the items have? Oh, a monitor? All we have is over on that shelf - take a look and see if it's what you want.  Now I don't want the guy to hold my hand (or anything else) but you think there would be some effort there. 'Over there' turned out to be shelves with 8 monitors, including exactly no 24" monitors. Makes perfect sense, right? Helpful Sales Consultant indicated that was about it. I helpfully asked what about the ten 24" monitors I saw online and pulled one up. He asked why not have it delivered to my house. No problem - can you guarantee I'll get it tomorrow? He looked and pronounced it would be ready to ship in exactly two weeks, which, as you know, is a lot longer than tomorrow. He further let me know if I wanted a monitor tonight, I'd have to get one from the shelf or I'd be S.O.L. (Sarah's Other Licker or Shit Out of luck, depending). Anything he ordered would take 2 weeks.

Oh.

Why did the website tell me to pick the monitor up at my local store?

Because you can pick it up at the store after your order it.

What kind of Joe Biden operation are they running? You can have whatever you want, at whatever price you want, provided you wait a few weeks. If I wanted a monitor, I could have gone to a number of places, but I stupidly went to the one with all the inventory listed on their page. It's like the blindfolded throwing darts in the dark, or Kevin Spacey with a hot chick.

Mind you, I got everything else without ordering it (or being accosted by different Helpful Sales Consultants). I couldn't decide whether I was Superman or Arthur, The Moth.



BUT WAIT... it gets better:

Once home, I unpacked my booty (boy was my wife surprised). After playing Hot Potato with a micro SDQQQ card, I finally got it in the slot and my tablet recognized it. This is what the religious community refers to as a Minor Miracle. Don't tell anybody, but I think I saw Pontius inside the tablet. Since it was a much bigger card than the stock memory, I moved all my hamster pr0n over to it, with plenty of space for more. Let's just say I know what I'll be doing this weekend.

Emboldened by Minor Miracles, I put together my 23" (NOT 24") monitor for which I overpaid. It's the first monitor I ever saw with a power block, as opposed to plugging in the regular old power cord. The joy of working with something new overcame me and, within twenty minutes of walking in my own door, I lost the power brick. HOW DO YOU LOSE A POWER SUPPLY in a tiny room with a 5' radius in which to work? How did those 3 humongous bags of Peanut Butter M&Ms disappear? I dunno.

I get a gold star for not crying, especially after watching my dog having trouble getting around. Dejected, I went to bed, planning to ask my lovely wife to help me look the next day. Of course she failed too.  As soon as it disappeared, it came back, like Rosie O'Donnell to the buffet. Of course you know by now that I forgot what the adapter looked like and it was right in front of me the whole time. I'm thinking of getting a brain tuneup but Wife suggests I go with a new, upgraded unit. She says even an average one will be a step up.  If I had any brains, I'd be insulted.


Monday, September 24, 2012

How to Get Rid of the TSA

The TSA, under the Department of Homeland Security, is the most hated governmental entity since the IRS, and with good cause.  You have no doubt read about the gropings, if not having participated in them.  The thing that surprises me the most is that people seem resigned to the invasion.

But I finally have it figured out.  The TSA simply has to state that women are not permitted more than one pair of shoes per trip.  That should end the misery quickly.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Know that feeling...

....where you think you have to go to the bathroom but you already did?  It's called deja-poo.

....when you have to get in line to sign up to wait in line for an iDevice?  It's call deja-queue.

....when you know someone's name but forget it immediately?  It's called deja-who.

....where you want to buy something but wait til it goes on sale?  That's called deja-Jew.

....when you watch a marsupial walk by, then its mother afterwards?  That's called deja-roo.

....where you wash your kid's hands and he immediately gets dirty again?  That's called deja-goo.

....when your stomach medicine causes heart attacks then brain cancer?  That's deja-sue.

....when your cat farts and five minutes later the dog farts?  It's called deja-p.u.

....when you have to reboot Windows, install an upgrade, then reboot again?  That's deja-suck.

....when you're on a trip and your wife stops at every rest area?  It's called deja-loo.

....when your wife's pregnant and you find out you're having twins?  That's called deja-two.

....when you have McDonalds for breakfast and Burger King for lunch?  It's called deja-moo.

....when Scooby sneaks up on Shaggy, then they see a ghost?  That's deja-boo.

[no one said they're all going to be gems]

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

So it's Monday, the worst five days of the week.  In case you haven't figured it out yet, let me put it in black and white for you: every day is Monday.  To make my first Monday of the week more interesting, I got to my desk to discover that one of my computers wasn't on.  Happy Monday.

I immediately suspected a coworker.  For some unknown reason, someone likes to shut off the power strip.  I fail to grasp the humor.  So I checked it and hit POWER and the computer happily continued to do nothing.  Once more, reseating the power plug, produced a blinking power indicator.  This is not a happy blinking.

Some computers blink away happily, like a hard drive indicator light.  Some blink just to brighten the days of their owners.  

This one mocked me.

When older Dells blink yellow, that's a really bad sign, usually indicating that the power supply or motherboard or cpu is toast.  This time it blinked green, indicating.... well... indicating that I've never seen a blinking green before.

Funny... I spent a bit of time Friday troubleshooting a nasty hissing and popping in the audio.  Hmmmmm......

#*#&@)$&$#_)(

DAMMIT - I'm too old for this shit.  I graduated from desktop work years ago.  I shouldn't have to fix my own computer... it's like bad karma or something.   Hey, the new guy is here for training - let's make him fix my computer.

No, it's my computer and if I want it done now and done right, I was going to have to fix it myself.  Plus the new guy probably uses a Mac or something.

Now it was time to call upon my years of desktop work.  And calling upon it got me exactly what happens whenever I have to call upon something from my past: blank stares and darkness.  Sometimes sneezing.

I couldn't help but notice that I just cleaned off my troubleshooting area in preparation for a reshuffling.  Along with cleaning, I put stuff away.  THIS WILL TEACH ME never to clean or put anything away ever again.

As the computer flatly refused to power up, I went for the obvious; the power supply.  Gravity assisted me in my endeavors, causing two of the four screws to disappear into the void of the carpet.  At this point I figured it might be a good idea to see if I had a replacement power supply (I'm mentally gifted, you know).

Of course I had replacement supplies.  I had them in every color, size, and connector.  I even had one that would fit exactly, much to my amazement.  As long as I was being amazed, I amazed myself by getting both remaining screws into the power supply so it would sit there.  

After briefly rewiring, I plugged it in and POOF.

No, I did not let the Magic Smoke out.  The unit came to life, surprising the hell out of me.  It's detours like this that I don't need.

In the midst of my repair, I got a call from the wife, who drove me to work.  Our mentally gifted cocker spaniel (it runs in the family) is once again discovering the joys of Dunkin coffee.  He hasn't done it for a while... perhaps he got bored.  He pries off the lid and goes snout down into the Dunkin Coffee Goodness. Apparently we need a locking cup because he was on his fourth try.  He's nothing if not tenacious.


Happy Monday.