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Piss Issue 43
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- P.I.S.S. Philez Number 43 =
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- The Day the Computers Died =
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- by Sameer Ketkar =
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[Turn word wrap on for this, because I'm too lazy to add carriage
returns]
Walking briskly out of his house in his turquoise cashmere suit, Bill realized that he had a lot of errands to run that day. He got into his new car, and decided to drive to the bank first. They had one of those new drive through teller machines, where you would drive up, and speak to the person behind the counter through a two way voice box. Bill chose the teller on the left.
"How can I help you?" a brisk female voice rang out.
"I'd like to make a withdrawal," he said, and with a Whoosh! the small, soda can sized cartridge slid down into his view. He grabbed it and placed his account card and withdrawal chit in it. With another Whoosh! the cartridge flew upwards and the teller picked it up. Making some notations on her pad, she put the money in the cartridge and sent it back to Bill.
"Thank you," he said, driving off. Looking at the boring dash of his car, and the post-it note stuck there, he turned to go to the grocery store. Bill drove for another two miles, till he reached the multi-storey grocery store. He needed some meat and flour, which were on the second floor. He parked his car in the massive lot, and noted the number of the parking spot: B 27. Bill approached the elevator, and smiled at the operator.
"Good morning to you, sir."
"Good morning, I'd like to go to the second floor please."
"Sure thing." The lift operator smiled and let Bill enter the car first. Following him in, the lift operator took his seat and closed first the main door then the sliding iron gate to the elevator. He took hold of the lever and pushed it up, holding it there until the car reached the second floor. "You have a nice day now," he said, tipping his hat.
Bill gave him a five-dollar bill and walked into the freezing cold supermarket. Walking to the frozen foods section, he picked out some choice cuts of meat, and took them to be weighed and priced. Then, he picked up a bag of flour and walked to the checkout lane. He placed his food on the conveyor belt and put the next customer please sign between his shopping and the next person's. When the meat reached the end of the conveyor belt, the twenty-year old boy picked it up and took out a pocket calculator. He added the prices for the meat and the flour, and then gave Bill his change.
Bill smiled at the boy and walked out of the supermarket. Spotting number B 27, he walked to his car. He looked up at the sky for a second and realized that it was going to be a hot day. Grabbing the handle to the sunroof, he yanked it open, and then rolled the windows down. He got in his car and drove to work. Coming to an intersection, he slowed and smiled at the policeman directing traffic.
"Going to be a beautiful day, isn't it, Officer?" he said.
"Yes it is," he answered without emotion, shaking him off.
Bill drove through another three intersections, but didn't try to make small talk with any of the officers stationed there. He just drove through, and minded his own business. Then, he got to the big skyscraping building that belonged to his company. It was a massive, beautiful building, which was why he felt so bad that it had to be torn down.
His office being on the top floor, Bill got a private elevator. The lift man had been a friend of his for many years, but Bill had just laid him off. He had signed more pink slips in the past few months than he had in all his years in the business.
When Bill got into his office, he looked at the stark, boring room wished he didn't have to leave it. He put his groceries in the small fridge that he kept in the office, and sat down at his huge mahogany desk. In his Inbox, there were a few notes, some memorandum, and he knew that he would have to reply to them sometime. Skimming them, he got out his personal stationary and then sat down to his typewriter and started typing a few words. He stopped suddenly. He couldn't, he realized, concentrate on the task at hand, he was too busy thinking about the past.
The computer industry had just gone downhill after the failure of such simple and essential systems such as DOS and Apple OS. They said it was some strange virus, but no one really knew. Bill looked sadly down at the base of his building, at the large sign that read: microsoft closing may 1998
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Suddenly waking up in the middle of the night, all clammy and sweaty, Bill Gates realized that he was having a nightmare. He shook it off, and looked over at the fine cashmere dark turquoise suit that his maid had laid out for him the night before.
*Note: This story was written using MS Word :)
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PISS - People into Serious Shit
Founders - Defenestrator, PhrostByte
Members -
Author Parselon
Wu Forever
kQs
CGibbons
Extinction
Faekon/Homarid
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Greenseed
Tim 121
Rhodekyll
Dial Tone
Psycho Phreak
Djdude
Circular Reclusion
Havok Luther
AT2Screech
Contributors-
Sameer Ketkar
Phantom Operator
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(C) Copyright 1997 PISS Publications and also copyrighted by the author.
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