Braving the wrath

My life has been spared.

In attempting to set up my computer at home to remote in to work, to my surprise everything went smoothly, things worked exactly like they were supposed to, and there were no frustrated tantrums on my part.

Right.

In reality I came pretty close to throwing the computer down the sewer, which of course would have solved ALL my problems, except that I knew I would have to go retrieve it at some point, and there are gigantic creatures living down there that even horror writers have no conception of.

I pleaded with Joe, long-suffering soul that he is, to work his magic and cure the patient, but even he eventually reached a roadblock. He decided that there was only one solution, a bold and reckless solution, and one that no one ever wants to hear.

"You need to ask your IT guy at work," he said.

I shook my head emphatically. "Are you crazy? I can't just go ask him," I said. "It's not allowed. There's a process you gotta go through. You have to, like, get presidential permission and stuff."

"He can tell you what to do," he urged. "You gotta ask him."

"No," I said, and looked at the computer, silently willing it to heal itself. The available screen space was the size of a thumbtack, the words as small as cars look from the air.

Joe rolled his eyes and muttered something about my wimpiness, which I freely admitted existed.

"You don't understand," I said in desperation. "This guy is like King Ahasuerus in the Bible. You don't go uninvited to him. If you do --" here I made a slashing motion across my neck -- "it's curtains for you."

Apparently willing to risk the chance that I might not come out of such an encounter alive, Joe wrote out a detailed description of what I should ask the IT guy.

Sensing that my fate was already decided, like Queen Esther I solicited prayers and fasting. "And just in case I don't make it through," I said, "don't put any flowers on my grave. They die and then it looks worse than with no flowers."

I did have one advantage over the ancient queen. She had to go in person to the king. I could e-mail my request, hiding behind a veil of, if not anonymity, at least distance.

For whatever reason, I found favor in the sight of the IT guy, who not only did not order my execution for daring to come before him with a private request -- and on top of it, not submitting a work ticket for it -- but also deigned to provide me with a solution. It was a cryptic, one-sentence solution, of course, but a solution nonetheless, and one that turned out to be just what I needed to cure my computer.

"See, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Joe asked.

I thought. "Well, if another computer problem comes up," I said, "I think I would rather brave the creatures in the sewer."