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Easy as Dell...
Or: My adventures in Vaputech!
The short version: My father bought a new computer. Said computer involved lots of cables, a short-tempered installer (me), a short-tempered helper (said father), and a rather bizarre couple of mix-ups. But it was eventually installed, and soon we will be getting broadband. Cable modem it looks like, although this is subject to change without notice. Yay.
For those of you with patience,
Enter several Large Boxes. It should be noted that my father's buying habits are rather odd. He will waffle about a purchase for several years, never quite committing, and always looking up the cheapest, most affordable and efficent version of whatever. Then one day he goes out and buys the biggest, most expensive, and invaribly most complicated version, with little warning.
So the boxes were big and numerous.
We get the CPU out of the box, and open her up so that I can install the PCI card for the wireless network. Note, I am not a computer technician. I don't know /why/ I said I could do this. But it's simple, right? It slides in; how hard can this be? Those of you wincing know the answer to this question.
I knew something was off as soon as I released the retaining arm. For one, the two PCI cards that came preinstalled (graphics and sound card) popped out. They were not supposed to do that. So, instead of installing one card, I was trying to install three, and not a one of them wanted to actually go in the slot. 'Push firmly' the instructions said. They should have mentioned that they meant with a bulldozer. My hands were hurting, my father was hovering over my shoulder and asking questions that I couldn't answer at the worst times, and my already edgy temper is about to do a good impression of a fireworks display. I order my 'helper' out of the room. He's not happy, but he goes. About forty minutes later, I /finally/ get the cards back where they're supposed to go. Sorta. But it's fine. I close the case.
The case does not close. Not all the way, anyway. I call father in to try and help me make it close. Eventually, I decide that it's not going to latch, and stomp off upstairs, leaving him to wrestle with it. Not very nice, I know, but I was at the end of my rope.
The next day! The case has been closed...he says he used a hammer. I didn't ask for details, because I feared that I would weep. But we have the CPU. Er. Actually, we have /two/ CPUs, because the nice Fed-Ex people just delivered another one. Which we did not order. And which was apparently not charged to the credit card. It just arrived, like an evil twin in a soap opera. Riiiight.
Keeping a wary eye on the clone box, we started setting up the monitor and rest of the stuff (speakers, keyboard, mouse), discovering in the process that a) our computer desk is badly designed, and b) even if it wasn't, the cords for just about every piece of equipment are ridiculously short. But in a couple of hours, we've got things hooked up. Yay, us!
We turn on the computer. And it gradually becomes clear that something is very, very wrong. First, it's booting up Windows XP Professional. We didn't order Professional, and the CD that came in the box was for Home. Mmmkay. The system that shouldn't exist merrily boots up, humming something evil to itself.
"New Hardware Detected!" Well, yes. We expected that; it's the network card, and I slip in the CD to load the drivers from, and click on Drive...er. Where's Drive D? This is not the disk drive you're looking for. Tentative conclusion is that those CD drives were never actually hooked up. All right. Tech support time.
(An hour of decent jazz broken by commercials from a woman with a really annoying voice follows. Our Heroine munches on toasted cheese sandwiches.)
Tech Support Guy: Welcome to Dell, please give me your Service Tag number.
Me: (had written this down previously, like a good girl) *gives number*
TSG: (His voice changing to that tone that indicates he's sure he's got an idiot on the line) No, ma'am, I'll need your /Service Tag/ number. It's on the sticker in front of your computer.
Me: Yes, sir. Looking at it right now. The number is (blah).
TSG: No, ma'am. That's not the number that's registered to your address.
Me: But this is the computer we ha...er. What's the number you have registered for us?
TSG: (blah)
Me: (scampers off to tear open the box on the Evil Twin CPU that just arrived today. Lo and behold...) Oh. That's the number on the CPU they sent us today.
TSG: Where'd you get the other one?
Me: The one they sent us yesterday, with the rest of the computer stuff.
TSG: Er...
Me: Indeed. I'll just tear this one out and try the other one, shall I?
TSG: ...Right. Good day, ma'am.
And lo, it was done. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the installation of /this/ one went very smoothly, even with the PCI cards, and it actually remembered that it had CD drives inside it. We'll box up the Vaputech box and have them come pick it up.
Unless it murders us all in our sleep.
The short version: My father bought a new computer. Said computer involved lots of cables, a short-tempered installer (me), a short-tempered helper (said father), and a rather bizarre couple of mix-ups. But it was eventually installed, and soon we will be getting broadband. Cable modem it looks like, although this is subject to change without notice. Yay.
For those of you with patience,
Enter several Large Boxes. It should be noted that my father's buying habits are rather odd. He will waffle about a purchase for several years, never quite committing, and always looking up the cheapest, most affordable and efficent version of whatever. Then one day he goes out and buys the biggest, most expensive, and invaribly most complicated version, with little warning.
So the boxes were big and numerous.
We get the CPU out of the box, and open her up so that I can install the PCI card for the wireless network. Note, I am not a computer technician. I don't know /why/ I said I could do this. But it's simple, right? It slides in; how hard can this be? Those of you wincing know the answer to this question.
I knew something was off as soon as I released the retaining arm. For one, the two PCI cards that came preinstalled (graphics and sound card) popped out. They were not supposed to do that. So, instead of installing one card, I was trying to install three, and not a one of them wanted to actually go in the slot. 'Push firmly' the instructions said. They should have mentioned that they meant with a bulldozer. My hands were hurting, my father was hovering over my shoulder and asking questions that I couldn't answer at the worst times, and my already edgy temper is about to do a good impression of a fireworks display. I order my 'helper' out of the room. He's not happy, but he goes. About forty minutes later, I /finally/ get the cards back where they're supposed to go. Sorta. But it's fine. I close the case.
The case does not close. Not all the way, anyway. I call father in to try and help me make it close. Eventually, I decide that it's not going to latch, and stomp off upstairs, leaving him to wrestle with it. Not very nice, I know, but I was at the end of my rope.
The next day! The case has been closed...he says he used a hammer. I didn't ask for details, because I feared that I would weep. But we have the CPU. Er. Actually, we have /two/ CPUs, because the nice Fed-Ex people just delivered another one. Which we did not order. And which was apparently not charged to the credit card. It just arrived, like an evil twin in a soap opera. Riiiight.
Keeping a wary eye on the clone box, we started setting up the monitor and rest of the stuff (speakers, keyboard, mouse), discovering in the process that a) our computer desk is badly designed, and b) even if it wasn't, the cords for just about every piece of equipment are ridiculously short. But in a couple of hours, we've got things hooked up. Yay, us!
We turn on the computer. And it gradually becomes clear that something is very, very wrong. First, it's booting up Windows XP Professional. We didn't order Professional, and the CD that came in the box was for Home. Mmmkay. The system that shouldn't exist merrily boots up, humming something evil to itself.
"New Hardware Detected!" Well, yes. We expected that; it's the network card, and I slip in the CD to load the drivers from, and click on Drive...er. Where's Drive D? This is not the disk drive you're looking for. Tentative conclusion is that those CD drives were never actually hooked up. All right. Tech support time.
(An hour of decent jazz broken by commercials from a woman with a really annoying voice follows. Our Heroine munches on toasted cheese sandwiches.)
Tech Support Guy: Welcome to Dell, please give me your Service Tag number.
Me: (had written this down previously, like a good girl) *gives number*
TSG: (His voice changing to that tone that indicates he's sure he's got an idiot on the line) No, ma'am, I'll need your /Service Tag/ number. It's on the sticker in front of your computer.
Me: Yes, sir. Looking at it right now. The number is (blah).
TSG: No, ma'am. That's not the number that's registered to your address.
Me: But this is the computer we ha...er. What's the number you have registered for us?
TSG: (blah)
Me: (scampers off to tear open the box on the Evil Twin CPU that just arrived today. Lo and behold...) Oh. That's the number on the CPU they sent us today.
TSG: Where'd you get the other one?
Me: The one they sent us yesterday, with the rest of the computer stuff.
TSG: Er...
Me: Indeed. I'll just tear this one out and try the other one, shall I?
TSG: ...Right. Good day, ma'am.
And lo, it was done. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the installation of /this/ one went very smoothly, even with the PCI cards, and it actually remembered that it had CD drives inside it. We'll box up the Vaputech box and have them come pick it up.
Unless it murders us all in our sleep.
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