phone calls II

"I can't turn on this damned machine."

"Did you check the power cords?"

"Yes."

"Did you flick the switch?"

"Yes."

"What did you do to it?"

"I'm telling you, nothing. I came in, it had the blue screen, I couldn't do squat, so I turned it off. I was desperate. And now the fucking thing won't turn back on."

"So you flicked the switch."

"Yes."

"Both of them?"

"Yes."

"And you flicked them back?"

"What am I, a fucking moron? Yes!"

"And then you pushed the button in front?"

(silence.)

"Button in front?"

"The power button."

"The one in front."

"The power button in front. It had a power sign on it."

"There isn't a power button in front."

"Yes there is."

"No, there isn't. I'm telling you, I'm looking right at it, and there's no power button."

"You see how the front opens up?"

"What?"

"You see the top half of the machine, how there's a flap there?"

"A flap?"

"Like a little door. A panel. It swings open, just like a door."

"It's locked."

"Have you tried it?"

"There's a lock on the side. It looks like it needs a key. Goddammit, I need a key to turn on this machine?"

"Try opening the little door."

"I'm telling you, it's . . . oh."

"Now. Do you see the power button?"

(silence.)

"Hello?"

"You tell anyone about this, I'll kill you."

"You're a sad, sad person. You know that, don't you?"

"Don't screw with me. I'm a California girl in New Jersey, and there's white shit coming down from the sky. Entire goddamn state is covered with flying, frozen, pooping pigeons."

"That's snow, Yuhri."

"Pigeons, I'm telling you."

"It melts when it lands?"

"They have liquid diets."

"Booted up yet?"

"Bite me."