I'm a romance writer, yup, and that job travels with me wherever I go, whether to the store, to a cub scout meeting, to work, to church, well, you get the idea.
My husband and son travel with me, too.
Sometimes the two worlds collide.
So, this past Friday evening, we're at the Apple store because I needed a new computer. Mine had finally deteriorated so much that the only thing I could do was word processing. And that was iffy because the system froze every 24 or so hours. Then, I'd have to shut everything down and start from scratch. The Internet would no longer work on the computer, photos either.
So, romance writer me and hubby are standing in front of the computer I want and waiting for a service rep. My son is over at a kids' table playing on the iPads.
I'm typing away.
Rep comes over and asked me, "What can I do for you today?"
I point to the computer screen and there are my questions.
My husband is embarrassed. This is not the normal thing to do, you see.
The rep says, "Oh, I'll need to get someone with a little more knowledge about...." and he walks away.
I start to type more questions.
My husband is aghast. "No, just ask the questions."
I said "Okay."
Here's what I did on the computer instead of typing my questions. And, yes, my husband is a plumber by trade
October 11, 2013
Plumbers, in American, face a strange malady. It’s called tooth fungi, and it happens when they bite their fingernails. Oh, not all plumbers bite their fingernails, but there are a few who cannot break the habit even when they see their coworkers with green teeth. We’re not just talking slightly green; we’re talking florescent green. The kind of green that glows in the dark and can guide planes in for landing.
Totally made up, on the spot. Not true.
My husband read it with a mixture of horror and laughter.
So, in conclusion, Don't Mess With a Romance Writer Who Has a Computer in her Hand.