The fastest thing about this place was the way Microsoft Word opened. Not much else could rival the speed with which Gates’ popular word processor sprung to life, blank page in front of you begging you to have your way with it. Were I a painter and this before me, were my canvas, I’d be pleased.
Alas, I’m neither a painter nor is what lies before me the canvas I seek. My current engagement with the application that’s graciously permitted me to place thoughts on screen is borne out of a previous engagement with what may very well be the slowest internet in Uganda.
Previously…
I had sworn off internet cafes. I don’t know where this pride, nay, arrogance was born, but it had been hatched and there was nothing I could do stagnate its hasty maturity. One minute you’re going to internet cafes and marveling at pages and porn, the next you’re filled with derision and scorn. Just. Like. That.
Present day…
So I wandered about, trying to figure out how to kill time. I thought perhaps a conversation with a stranger may work wonders. It didn’t. It was over almost as soon as it begun, possibly even sooner.
“Hello…” said I, my voice friendly, my demeanor affable.
“You’re not allowed to sit here…” was his response, delivered with the sort of precision reserved for striking a stubborn animal.
The conversation didn’t stand a chance.
So I made like a wise man and wandered about, hoping inspiration would snake its way into my life and think to itself, “I like it here.”
And that’s how I ended up in an internet café. Actually, hang on, that’s not entirely accurate. I opposed the idea of entering that café with every fiber of my being, but I saw a foreigner hunched over his computer working hard. I thought to myself, ‘foreigners have standards, so this café must be the best café in the world’. It is very possible that if I’d bothered to look again, perhaps even closer, I’d have seen that the hunchback-of-net-ré-damn was crying, suffering silently and asking his maker why he’d let him stray down this path… I’d have seen that, but I didn’t. THAT’S how I ended up here.
The make shift poster on the wall screamed that the establishment charged 20/- per minute. My fuzzy math told me that that wasn’t a bargain, that I was being ripped off, but I didn’t care. Perhaps I’d make a friend in here.
I didn’t.
So I sat my ass down and opened the browser window, navigating to gmail. . .well, trying to. My internet connection was not having any of that and assumed the stagnant position. I hit the enter key and then the net decided to have some fun with me, asking that I re-enter my password. I did, then hit the enter key again.
This time, the internet did something different. It moved forward…into the past. The page it pulled told me that the browser I was using was no longer supported. This, for me, should not be an issue. There are people we no longer support, but they still seem to be working.
Nonetheless, because I’m a patient guy, I figured I’d play this silly game and proceeded to download google’s chrome browser…or tried to. The download window told me I’d have to wait for about 5 hours before the file agreed to set up shop on my computer…
That’s when I hatched the idea to write this and pass time.
Chrome’s download window has sort of styled up and now it’s asking me to wait for about 20 minutes, but I’m sure that’s just another game that the net wants to play with me…the bastard.
Sure enough, it’s gone ahead and changed its mind. I have to give it another 3hrs…
Tut tut… And I thought your hi-tech phone had eliminated the need for cafe internet. Speaking of which, mine hasn't yet made my blogging any easier, although that's a user-fault. Didn't you think of making friends with the cafe admin? Sometimes they can be friendly!