I wonder if sometimes I should not be more demanding. I’m generally reasonably happy when things work like they are supposed to work. Things don’t even have to exceed my expectations for me to be pleased. As a matter of fact, having something exceed my expectations is a whole other cause for concern because then I suspect that a) I’m being had, or b) the other shoe is fixing to drop. So things working out just like they should is about as good as a pudding cup in my humble opinion.
For instance, I have this tablet. It’s not an iPad. Don’t call it an iPad. Don’t call it a comeback either. It’s a tablet. It’s pretty slick, works well with the android, the applications, what have you. In my new life as consigliere to the non-profits and prophetic, I’ve found the portability of this slippery little sucker to be nigh unbeatable. But if you use it all day, you lose power. Not spiritual power. That’s everylasting. Tablet power is not, however, everyready. The tablet, she gets tired.
So I bought this dock thingy. It has a keyboard, and, yeah, that’s nice. It also has USB and SD outlets. If you don’t really know what those are or why they are important, then nothing in this post is going to seem exciting to you. That’s ok. It’s not your fault. I think those are very exciting, especially for if I ever become a roving blog reporter on the town. It could happen. But the point is this dock. This dock she has a battery. The battery in the dock refreshes the battery in the tablet at its own expense. It’s like the Secret Service of lithium ion, especially since the head of the Secret Service now is a woman.
The only problem is that the first dock I bought apparently did not finish the part of the training wherein it was supposed to learn how to take the bullet for the tablet battery. Either that or it was just plain lazy. Either way, I took it personally. I thought it was my fault for somehow installing it improperly. (It’s actually a lot like an IKEA chair. You really cannot screw it up.) I thought that maybe the tablet had a bad chip or something. (Now I feel bad for doubting my tablet’s integrity.) I scoured message boards for possible solutions.
When you reach the point when you can say you have “scoured message boards,” it’s time to seek a new solution. I turned to the manufacturer. I scoured their website. I *gasp* submitted a service claim. Now, in this service claim I was clear to run down all the things I had already tried, just so we would not waste each others’ time. They bumped me up to VIP, a status which does not include bottle service. I repeated my tale of woe to an ASUS tech who goes by the name of “Eva.” Somehow, I don’t think that’s her real name. I’m also not confident that she is one person. Kind of like Shakespeare. “Eva” gave me a number and told me to ship my dock to Texas.
Not only did that sound expensive, it also sounded time consuming. I’ve got inane blog posts to write wherein the story being told did not take as long to transpire as the post takes to write. I’m a busy man. I can’t wait while my dock goes to Texas, gets received by a 19-year-old on break from Texas Tech who promptly chucks it in a pile with all the other busted docks before he puts a new dock in the box I sent him and ships it back, standard ground, to me. I can, however, simply return the dock to the store, get a replacement, and see if the problem persists. I did, it did not, and now I am more than reasonably happy.