Skip to main content

For want of a mouse


My mouse retired last week. For years it had faithfully tracked, pointed and clicked its way around various monitors without a squeak of complaint. Then, silently, it just started to slip away. Intermittently the left click began to fail, before packing in entirely. I was left with half a mouse, prodding lumpenly at the screen like early man. That right click still worked was a minor torture of sorts, I could do half a job, but couldn’t satisfyingly seal the deal with a left click.

I pottered along with keyboard shortcuts and Mouse Keys for a bit, but it wasn’t the same. The computer seemed suddenly alien to me, with a vague feeling of unease I left it alone until such time as I could get a new mouse (which, clearly, has happened, and very nice it is too, a zippier, smaller, younger model, I eye the old mouse, wrapped in its cord and tucked away on the desk, like a penitent adulterer).

Strange to have a part of your life excised by something as simple as a left click button. No computer meant no paperwork for a few days, but also no social media, no email, no sitting down to write these mini-essays. Whilst you could read into this that the internet has a worrying hegemony over our daily lives (partly true), and it was, in a way relaxing to get a brief break from the computer, the relief when that mouse was plugged in was palpable, normality resumed.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Creepy old men

I note, somewhat wearily, that creepy old men are back in the news, being creepy. Creepy old men, and their apologists and enablers, who argue that their creepiness is somehow the natural order of things. Old men would have you believe that it is difficult to not be a creepy old man. That it is a task of epic proportions. It is not that difficult. It is a matter of intention. As yet more of the grimness of Epstein unfolds, creepy old men are, sadly, a flaccid topic once again. Whether it be pursuing students thirty years their junior, or simply not asking too many questions about the background of the probably legal young woman who you've just been introduced to by your good pal Jeff. To be clear, I am not referring to criminal creepy old men, the ones who actually committed statutory rape, the ones who fucked trafficked hirls. That is not something which is allowed to get away merely with the contempt of the observer.  That deserves prison.  No , I'm referring to the hinterla...
Post a Comment
Read more

Inedible

"He says it's inedible" said my front of house manager, as she laid the half-eaten fish and chips in front of me, and instantly I relaxed.  Clearly, I observed, it was edible to some degree. I comped it, because I can't be arsed arguing the toss, and I want to make my front of house's lives as simple as possible. The haddock had been delivered that morning. The fryers had been cleaned that morning. The batter had been made that morning (and it's very good batter, ask me nicely and I'll give you the recipe some time). The fish and chips was identical to the other 27 portions I'd sent out on that lunch service, all of which had come back more or less hoovered up, we have have a (justified, if I do say so myself) very good reputation for our chips. But it was, apparently, "inedible". When it comes to complaints, less is more. If you use a hyperbolic word like that, I'll switch off, you've marked yourself as a rube, a chump, I'm not g...
Post a Comment
Read more

The daftest complaint I ever had

I have written here several times down the years about customer complaints, both justified and idiotic. Working in hospitality they are an ineivitability. No matter how good you are, how consistent, you will get complaints. Very few of them stick in the memory, but some, by virtue of their extreme idiocy, do. And one popped into my mind as I was plating up a dish this lunchtime, and I thought, why not, it's as good a thing to write a blog about as any. It's also an entertaining example of how events can play out in ways you may not expect at the time. It sticks in the mind as it combined stupidity with a petty malice and venality which leaves me with no qualms about taking the piss out of it publicly. I rarely let bad reviews lie, if I feel they're unfair I might demur, if I feel they're reasonable I'll make a point of apologising. If they're stupid I'll take pleasure in replying very politely. This one got ignored. It happened on a Sunday, which is another ...
Post a Comment
Read more