three
My car idles in the parking lot outside the mall while I knock my forehead against the wheel and try not to cry. I’m going to wait here until my scheduled appointment to have the letterEkey on my laptop replaced. I’m hoping that enough time will pass between now and facing my mother that I’ll have pulled myself together. Maybe I can tell her that getting fired is a positive thing. Getting fired by a twerp of a boss from a job that I was terrible at could be an opportunity to do something else. Something better.
When I realize that my forehead is starting to hurt from my repetitive bonks, I lean back against the headrest and close my eyes.
Fuck.
Well, this appointment cannot be the worst of my day. I won’t allow it to be. How hard can it be to switch out a keyboard letter?
When I enter the store, I’m overwhelmed by the number of employees swirling around, and it’s a shock that I’m not trampled by any of them. With all eyes expectantly on me, I narrow in on a woman not much older than I am.
She lurches forward and beams. “Hi! How can I help you today?”
“I have an appointment. I need a newEkey.”
“Wonderful! I’d love to help you with that!” She glances down at her tablet. “Name?”
“Callie Evans.”
“Okay, great.” Her frown leads her to wave over two other employees. “Hey, friends! This is Callie. She needs a neweekie, and I’d love to help her with that, but I’m not sure what that is.”
You’ve got to be kidding me.
I stare at the two supposedlygeniusdudes in front of me, and they’re perplexed to all hell by her statement.
“Hmm,” one says. “An eekie. Let’s see if we can figure out what that is.” He starts tapping his own screen with great intent. “What’s your name?”
“The same as it was a minute ago. Callie Evans. I have an appointment.”
“Wonderful!” the second guy exclaims. “So, er, what is this eekie you’re looking for? Might there be another name for it.”
I inhale and exhale a bunch before I reply, “I’m not here for an eekie. I’m here for anEkey. For a new letterEfor my laptop.” They still look stumped, so I over-enunciate my words. “The letterE. For my laptop.” I try to smile. “All keyboards have this frequently used letter. As I told the person on the other end of the phone call when I made this appointment, theEon my keyboard that I have is partially unattached and wonky. I have to hit it a bunch of times for it to actually type the letter.”
“Ohhh.” They all nod with understanding.
“Let’s get you set up at a table over here,” one of them says, “and Jerry will be with you as soon as possible. There is a bit of a wait.”
“I made an appointment though. For right now.”
“Sure. No problem. Someone will be right with you. Relax and enjoy the free Wi-Fi.”
“I don’t want to enjoy the free Wi-Fi. I want to enjoy a newEkey. Typing words with the fun letterEand shit,” I mumble. “Such asentendreandelegantandeerie.” I sit down on a rock-hard stool and then call out, “Andeconomistandecho!”
Fine. I wait with the long table of sad souls and our unspoken shared misery. I open my laptop, preparing to show off my faulty keyboard key. My “eekie.”
Finally, a guy in a beanie slides into the stool next to mine. He’s as happy and relaxed as anyone I’ve ever seen, and he holds out his hand. “So sorry about that slight wait. I’m Jerry. What can I do for you today?”
For the hundredth time, I say, “I had an appointment. I just need a newEkey for my laptop.” I push my computer his way. I swear to all hell that if I have to sayE keyone more time, I’m going to lose it.
Jerry clicks a few things and frowns. “Oh. Well, wow. With a computer this old, there’s a lot going on here that we need to look into.”
“Um, no.”
“What do you mean, no?” Jerry is clearly appalled by my disinterest.
“I mean, replace that one key.” I lean in and whisper tensely, “I don’t want the million things that cost money. I simply want one little letter of the alphabet, okay?”
“Fine.” Jerry scoops up my laptop and disappears into the mysterious back of the store.
