She ran her hands over its smooth hard length one last time, frustrated tears welling up in her eyes. They had been together for many years, sharing memories, treasuring photos and precious words, but now the sodding laptop was broken and had lost half a perfectly good blog piece again and so it had to go. It wouldn’t be easy but it was either buy a new machine or face paying a glazier to repair the hole the old one left as it sailed out the unopened window.
She had awoken with a start that day, it’s not as good as a naked man but it was what she awoke with none the less. Today was the day she would meet her new laptop, the machine of her dreams. She didn’t know what it would look like yet but she knew she would at long last get the 15.6 inches she’d been longing for. With a widescreen like that, you could do it long and hard. Type, that is; a whole screen of really long, hard, articulate words.
What to wear, what to wear? A day like this called for no ordinary outfit, she needed to look just right for such a special occasion, so she carefully picked out her hottest outfit. She then decided to change into a less hot outfit as the weather was actually quite warm. She had to feel the part, this was going to get all kinds of geeky and she’d get laughed out the computer store if she didn’t show them she meant business. Sandals with socks were the only way forward. Those, and a top cut just low enough to flash a seductive hint of jaw line.
She took the tube that day. It was really awkward to fit it into her handbag but she was the kind of girl who always took public transport everywhere. Wondering how having a train in your pocket made you environmentally sound and not just cued up for endless “is that a train in your pocket or are you just pleased to see me?” jokes, she headed for the store of delights, the hallowed portal of technology, where computery words of filth would be whispered into her ears by a zit-ridden 18 year old sales assistant as he showed her the size of his hard drive. Her legs trembled, she set down the train, they stopped.
Eagerly, she pushed her way through the crowded shopping center to the store in question, her heart beating passionately as each tourist took a sharpened elbow square to the guts and finally, she was there, surrounded by row upon row of temptation. Laptop after laptop, standing in line with their lids brazenly erect, keyboards provocatively on show and their specification labels shamelessly exposed. Her eyes were wide with anticipation and then he approached.
18 years old, long lithe limbs like delicious limp strands of spaghetti with chewed fingers that could show a joypad a thing or two and judging by the way his acne was healing nicely, he was senior in the ranks of sales assistant and quite something with ladies. He stumbled masterfully across the shop floor and spoke with the dulcet tones of a cheese grater-voiced angel.
“You looking for anything special?” he queried.
She ran one sock-n-sandalled foot seductively up and down the back of her leg and explained that she was a globally renowned writer and needs, though modest, were indeed “special, if you know what I mean.”
He nodded, yes, he knew what she meant and pointed out where the disabled toilets were.
“No, no!” she cried, “I went before I came and the gimpy walk is because I carried a train all the way here – it’s outside now, taking a break from being the punchline to a lame gag. I mean, I want you to show me what you have that can satisfy a girl with a great need for RAM and little desire for games. Or gaming.”
She reached across to him, delicately brushing away the soft dusting of dandruff that coated his boyishly charming knobbly shoulder, watching as it fluttered down to his name badge, where it settled on the raised plastic lettering that read “Hi, my name is Darren”.
“Darren”, she said, “I think we both know that I know that you know that I know that we know that you know what I need.”
He gave her a look that spoke a thousand words, each one of those words was “huh?”
“Don’t be coy Darren, show me what you’ve got!”
With that he brazenly showed her his hardware, reading aloud, with great disinterest, the product specification label of each proud machine. She wasn’t fooled by his lacklustre nonchalance, she knew this moment was special and that he felt it too. Or was that just the out-of-date chicken she had for dinner the night before?
After fingering each and every key, on each and every board, she made a firm decision and waved her spotty champion off to the cavernous stock room in search of her prize. She could tell he was up for a tease so she flirted outrageously with him on his return by changing her mind and sending him back to fetch a different token of lap top love. What fun.
The third time may be the charm but everyone knows men don’t love girls who give it up too easily so she flirtatiously sent him back another 12 times to show she was a real lady and not some easily won floozy. Cocking her head back, she let out a playful laugh like broken gin bottles tinkling into a blocked drain at the way he pretended to get annoyed, cheekily huffing and sighing with each trip. To anyone else, this would have seemed like resentment but she knew he enjoyed it just as much as she. Why else would he keep coming back for more?
“Fine”, he said, with a besotted look of contempt, “are you sure this is the one you want?”
She nodded and accepted his masterful invitation to accompany him to the cashier’s desk and, knowing their time was running short, looked adoringly into his eyes as he tried to woo her with endless talk of warranties, accident cover and protection schemes. So caring, so strong, so considerate. So not buying it.
“Ok madam, That’ll be three hundred and…”
She quickly raised her hand and pressed her finger to his seductive flaky lips. “Don’t cheapen this Darren. What we had was special and you can’t put a price on that.”
Unfortunately Darren was the old fashioned type who saw her only for the commission in his monthly wage packet and callously insisted she hand over her credit card before store security would stop sitting on her head.
And what of the new laptop? What did her hours of arduous research and the pearls of invaluable advice from knowledgeable IT gurus lead her to purchase? Well, as ever, it came down to that age old dilemma of style vs function. She wisely went with a pretty blue one.
Pretty Feet, Pop Toe 
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