I made a mistake. I knew it the second it happened, but that didn’t stop me. And now I’m suffering in ways that I could never have imagined. The terrible mistake? I bought a new laptop computer.

It’s not like I bought the wrong model or something. In fact, I was very careful in making a selection that had all the bells and whistles. Not only that, but it was manufactured by a reputable name in the industry, it was sold to me by a legitimate retailer, and it came with an extended warranty.

In all fairness, I must accept part of the blame. Before I made my purchase, I should have spent some time reflecting on the last time I bought a new computer. But then again, I’m not sure that I would have been able to mentally recreate the sensation of an ice pick being shoved through one ear and out the other. In any event, I’m certain that I would have thought that it wasn’t really all that painful after all.

But that would have been another mistake compounding the original stupid mistake. Actually, buying the computer was not wrong. Attempting to use the computer is the problem. And that’s because the attempt to use the computer is like being digitized and thrown into a video game of Revenge of the Computer Geeks for eternity.

It’s payback of the most horrendous kind. And I say that because by the time that most computer dolts such as myself can make their way around their old computer without mistakenly deleting all the records contained in the Library of Congress or accidentally setting their hair on fire (roughly a six-year time period), the computer programmers have come up with brand new software.

In other words, buying a new computer means that neither Congress nor my hair is safe for the next five years and 364 days. Taking on new software is a learning curve with cattle prods attached. To make matters worse, now all computers have web cams so that everyone can watch you writhe around on the floor like your run-of-the-mill tasered drunk who has unfortunately watched too many episodes of Dukes of Hazard to truly understand the deleterious effects of having someone whap you with a couple of hundred thousand volts of electricity for no better reason than you’re dumb as dirt.

Of course, the king-god of computer geeks, Bill Gates, who makes more money than the federal government can print, is the one geek who gets the sweetest revenge. At least, that is what I learned when I fired up the computer and was introduced to the new Microsoft software: Vista. It would have been a much more pleasant experience to have just stuck my finger into an electrical outlet and gotten it over with.

I’d like to report that I mastered the maze of prompts, commands, and reminders that repeatedly asked me if I really wanted to do this or do that. But even something as simple as turning the monstrous device off required me to engage in a discourse on the Existential consequences of my decision.   

But the real killer was the Product Key. It’s downright mystical, and thus, way beyond my comprehension other than to know that I could not proceed to Computer Nirvana without it. From all I could tell, it is the secret to the Universe, akin to the Holy Grail. I was instructed to find it, and type it into my computer or the world would come to an apocalyptic scorched earth and ashes end.

Realizing I was not up to the task, I nonetheless bravely initiated a futile search. Several hours later, at around 3 in the morning, my 10-year-old daughter came downstairs to tell me that my terrifying screams were waking her up. By that point in time, I was pretty much babbling about the Four Horsemen and muttering something vaguely crude about a computer mouse and Bill Gates’ anatomy.

Seeing that she was truly perturbed, I managed to mutter something weird about finding the Product Key before the Overlord found me. That’s when she walked over and picked up the laptop and flipped it over to reveal the mysterious number on the underside of the beast. She yawned and said something about me being an embarrassment and went back to bed.

Clearly, some people are better equipped to deal with mistakes than others.