Here is Andrew’s latest dispatch from Edinburgh….
Edinburgh Festival. I’m continuing my campaign of goodwill to all, even
bagpipers. Generosity is its own reward, particularly if it results in
ticket sales. So far it’s working. I’m making friends. The show’s
selling. They’re laughing.
Then I hit a problem. I can’t e-mail. I need to. And I’m
staying in Oxgangs - not one of Edinburgh’s smarter, brighter areas. I
can say this without fear. I don’t think there are many Style readers
in Oxgangs. Or even many readers. The flats are decorated with Sky
dishes and graffiti, which is mostly misspelled. Women carry cigarettes
and children. Men wear sportswear and scowls. I’ve spoken to two
Oxgangers so far, who offered the opinion “It’s not what you know, it’s
who you know”. As if the reason they were still unemployed was that
they hadn’t met Richard Branson on the way to the bookies. I wanted to
say: “No it is actually what you know, and whether it’s relevant.”
Knowledge is power, but not if that knowledge concerns the price of
Tennants Extra.
I call up a computer support person. The conversation goes like
this…
“Can you help me? I don’t understand anything.”
“Let me talk you through it. Has your computer come ready
downloaded with I-Pass Area Sensitive Software?”
“What?” Already my head is boiling.
“It’s really easy. All you’ve got to do is dial up I.Pass.com,
download, then restart in DOS Active Programme. It’s really easy.”
“No!” I blurt. “It’s easy for you, because you probably spent
your teenage years, greedily reading computer manuals. I spent mine
dyeing my hair and touching ladies.”
“Go on then… How did you get to touch ladies?”
“It’s really easy, let me talk you through it. Find a lady.
Speak to her. That’s like double clicking on her. It opens her up.
Soon you may be able to run your mouse over her. Use your sensitive
software. Don’t grab.”
“You sarcastic bastard.”
He puts the phone down. My goodwill has vanished. I’m convinced
everyone is evil, specially IT support people, who must be rounded up
and taunted.
I try three coffee shops trying for a wi-fi connection. I get twitchy
with caffeine, but get no internet connection. In the fourth, I ask the
guy next to me, if he can help. Graciously, he sorts me out quickly,
without uttering a single word of geek speak. Turns out he’s called
Ian.
He lives in Oxgangs. He’s an IT trainer. He doesn’t even want a coffee
for his trouble.
I sort out my e-mails calmly. My faith in humanity is restored.
I shall never again be nasty, or generalise. It turns out it is who you
know.
And I know Ian, who says I can contact him at info@curvydog.com whenever
I want. I have a new friend who’s an IT trainer. All is well. Right.
How are we doing for tonight?
Andrew is performing 6 50 each night at Pleasance Dome.
www.pleasance.co.uk