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Today, while listening to the Live at the Fillmore album, a client came into to have their PC repaired whom, sporting an interesting British accent also informed the other tech present and myself that his computer would not start, and that it was an emergency to get it working, as on Friday he would be leaving the country for business. This seemed an easy fix so the other tech and I continued to chat with the man only to find that he is a super hardcore anti-Indochina-slave trade commando operator from HELL! But the awesome kind of hell that contains things such as 1000 beers from around the world, and a bong that you just can't quite seem to figure out how to smoke out of. Interestingly enough, he was leaving the country for Mumbai, India on Friday to engage local organizations there in a slave-trader free-for-all destructithon. Although that may seem interesting to many, the most surprising event of the day had yet to come...

The driving rain and constant thunder was broken only by the image of one man. Creaking the door open he stumbled inside, gripping a miniature Asus tower PC in his left arm, while holding his drooping emerald green slacks up and in place, doing the job that the blue pallet strap snaked through his belt loops was obviously failing at. With a brackish smell and sputtering sound, his voice came alive, reminding both Martin and I of Gollum, immediately dubbing him secretly with this name. Not to be malicious, but to keep the fun alive in the workplace is a hard thing to do. He essentially threw the computer on top of the counter and exclaimed "FIX IT!, you two look like you have the moxy!". I felt an immediate rush of accomplishment having an 80-something man use a word such as moxy to describe us and our business. Small conversation was exchanged and Gollum went on and on about how he would like a repair but also to go purchase an external hard disky, yes he called it a disky. This way he could have not only his computer repaired but also a handy dandy backup. None of this seemed out of the ordinary until on his way out he stopped and made a comment...he said, "what's that you're listening to, Dredg?". This blew my mind! Like a load of birdshot to the face, I was levelled to the floor, a small smile present on his aged visage as he continued out the door, knowing that we would never have expected his statement, wishing us a great day and mumbling about how he couldn't wait until his PC would be finished tomorrow.