SLEKHAH!!!!!!!!

Today I succumbed to the spirit of yelling. My printer, which I bought approximately one month ago, decided to stop working last Thursday. After several days of going back and forth with HP tech support via email to no avail, they recommended that I take it back to the store. So this morning I boxed it up and headed out the door to walk the few blocks to take it back to "Bug", the electronics store in which I bought it. Fifteen feet from my door, the handle of the box broke.

After waiting patiently in line to return the thing, the guy told me that they don't take returns and that I would have to call HP tech support in Israel and they would come to my house and replace it. So I took my box back home and called tech support. The guy didn't even want to listen to what I had already tried with online tech support; we had to walk through the whole thing again. Is it plugged in? Yes. What happens when you turn it on? Nothing. Look at the power box. Okay. Is the cord plugged into it properly? YES. Can you plug it into a different power source (outlet)? I've already done that a few thousand times, but, yes, I will give it one more try. Nothing. Can you hold for a few minutes? Do I have a choice?

After a few minutes of listening to some recorded Hebrew announcements, he then comes back and tells me that there are two options: What we normally do is send a technician to your house and he will replace the printer with a USED one that works. WHAT!!! But I don't want to do that to you, so the other option is that you have to fax the bill of sale to me. I don't have a fax machine. No, you have to take the printer back to Bug (you gotta wonder about a store that names itself after a PEST), write your name on the bill--your whole name, by the way, your last name is Reagan. Yes I know that. Are you related to the royal family? If I said yes, would you give me better service? No. I'm not related. Write your name, your passport number, the name of the printer, its serial number, the case number I am giving you now and Bug's fax number on it, have them fax it to me, my name is Shomi. How do you spell that? You don't know how to spell Shomi? I'm not from here, okay, give me a break!!! S-H-O-M-I. Then they will give you a new printer.

You mean I have to turn around and carry the stupid thing BACK to Bug? Don't do it today, wait until Thursday, after the holiday, because we're closing in less than an hour. There's another holiday? Good grief, there's a holiday every time I turn around. Yes I know--I have lived here all my life, I'm 28 and I still can't get used to all of them. Okay. I'm sorry I yelled at you. It's okay. So, when I take this printer back to the store, they will fax you, and you will fax them and they will give me a new printer? Yes. Okay, thanks for your help.

Happy Holiday, again.

Holiday? Again?? Oh crap. Now I have to get to the store before it closes, so I grab my backpack and head out the door. Why is it when you're mad at the world and just want to get your shopping done, the crowds are just impossible? Three women went down the steps to City Cellar in front of me chatting and not paying a bit of attention to me trying to politely get by them. Then I got in the store and every corner I turned, there they were, taking up the whole isle. Good grief. Anyway, I grab all my stuff and get in line. A woman walks up behind me with only a handful of items and I move aside and offer to let her go before me. She does. Without even a smile or a word of thanks. You're welcome. Oh well. I check out, pack the heavy and cold stuff into my backpack and the rest in bags and I head out the door and up the steps. Rats. I need meat. I'll just run up to the souk while I'm out. The adrenaline of anger is fueling me along anyway.

Mission accomplished, bags in hand, I start back home. The streets are really crowded and no matter how loud I say "Slekhah!" (excuse me), people will just not budge to let you pass. At this point I'm just daring people in my mind to get in my way--You get in my way, I'll knock you over with my 80 lb backpack.... Except for you soldiers with the big ol' guns. And you little old lady with a walker. And you happy little kids. But if you're a normal, healthy adult, don't get in my way....

So I get past the crowds and I'm determinedly walking towards home, thinking of ways to torture tech support guys, and this guy walks up beside me. Excuse me, are you from the states? On no. Here we go again. Within two blocks, I've been asked to go have coffee. So then the battle rages inside. He's cute. I don't have many friends here. I do like coffee. Could it hurt? Hang out at Cafe Hilel. Be able to talk and get to know someone. He works for the water company. Hey, maybe he could translate that bill for me!!! Rats. We're already outside my apartment and he's walked with me the whole way. Will I go have coffee with him tomorrow evening? I don't know. Can he call me? Ugghhh. Before I know what's happening, I'm giving him my number. I gotta be crazy.

A couple of days ago, I wrote about finding God in everything. I have to admit that today, I'm having a hard time. Well, I'll just keep looking and praying that God protects me from harm. And from myself. And we'll see if Bug gives me a new printer. And we'll see if the guy even calls....