The Maltese MacBook

It was a Wednesday and it would have been just like any other Wednesday, except that Apple was announcing its big fall. Just my luck, I had to work in a San Francisco store, which meant I was a genius who got to answer all the questions.

I had just finished helping a client who claimed that Siri was becoming increasingly impatient and answering her questions, when I saw her and walked in the door.

Her black hair was tied with amethyst highlights and she wore a black leather tutu and polished red-knee Victorian boots. Brightly colored tattoos of Asian characters rocked both her hands and neck.

She would not particularly venture out in San Francisco, except that cobalt-blue eyes caught me and would not let me go. He rapidly reduced the distance between the door and where I was standing behind the counter behind the store.

He locked a Surface Pro computer on the counter in front of me.

Then I remembered where I saw him. She was on the press: talking about her new startup here a while back. She was the head of software engineering for Google Spinoff. All the people of the valley were fighting to throw money into his project. I was sitting there watching my boxers eat cold pizza and watching him talk on TV about AI for blockchain ML. She was out of my league.

“I was in Valletta on a business trip using my MacBook Pro,” she said. “I was reading Verline on the beach when a wave came and soaked Reggie. ‘Reggie’ is my MacBook Pro. Before I knew it, it was all over. ”

“I had no choice but to buy this Surface Pro at a Windows shop on Straight Street to get me through the conference. It’s fine, but it’s not Reggie. I came today to fix everything. You can do this for me, can’t you? ”

I looked down at Surface Pro. We should not have worked on other computer functions. It was strictly forbidden in the Genius Training Student Workbook. Alarms were going into my head telling me to be careful: this dame meant nothing but trouble.

I made the mistake of looking at it and it was only right for a while. His eyes were embarrassing and probing at the same time. I felt myself falling into my high-blue depths in heels.

I shook it and slowly crawled back into consciousness. I told myself that if a customer’s computer needs help, it doesn’t matter what you think of the computer, or what brand it is. He is your customer, and you are about to do something about it. Its way of working is damn talented training student workbook.

I asked him if he had files on Surface Pro that he needed to save. He told me that he used BackBlaze Cloud Backup on both the new Surface Pro and his old MacBook Pro. My instincts were right. This woman was smart.

“That would make me a lot easier,” I told him. “We will download supported files for both your Surface Pro from your old MacBook Pro and Backslays and put them on a new MacBook Pro. We will be done in a few minutes. You know about the inherited backup state of Backblaze, right? This lets you move your account to a new computer, restore all your files from your backup to the computer, and start backing up all your files again without uploading them to the cloud again. ”

He smiled and walked out of the store and out of my life. My eyes fell on the swinging door as he crossed the street and disappeared into the unnamed mass of humanity.

I thought to myself: she will come back. That charger, or Thunderbolt for USB-C adapter, or Magsafe for USB-C, or Thunderbolt 3 to Thunderbolt 2, or USB-C to Lightning or USB-A to USB-C, or DisplayPort to Mini DisplayPort, or HDMI From DisplayPort, or vice versa.

I panicked. Maybe he will take a big fall for Windows and I will never see him again. What happened if it happened?

Then I realized that I am just becoming a sap. Take it out! I don’t care what happens to him, he deserves it.

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