WI-FI, IN STRANGE PLACES

As a guest in a popular Inn chain that advertised (but with no instructions anywhere on how to get on) I turned on my laptop and went through the usual connect-to-network procedure. Naturally, since there were no instructions, I assumed inaccurately as with most assumptions I make on no data, that it would follow past procedures. The screen asked for a user name and password, neither having been supplied. None but those who have lived through a similar exercise in frustration can understand the total waste of good time that ensued. I was lost like 'Charlie on the MBTA in Boston', in an endless loop. Each warning was more dire than the previous one. Threats as in email sent from naive, computer-illiterate friends who only know how to do email and probably listen to and believe Rush Limbaugh, seemed aimed at me, ready to infiltrate and take over my computer.

An exception could be made, one error screen read, but it was not recommended. I searched through the information pack on the desk again. It was as useful as the manual in English, written in Italy, for my Roland piano made in Japan! I finally decided to read a book instead.

This morning the new person at the desk told me I should have entered the name of the Inn as the user and gave me a four digit password. He seemed surprised when I answered in the affirmative; I had a laptop with me. My age must have suggested a different profile for him. He told me to bring the laptop to him if I couldn't do it. With only the back of the laptop visible to me he got me on the Internet, then looked panicked when he thought I was going to close it. After the ride on the elevator and back, he proved true to his word and here I am!

Back from a lovely breakfast, though the pecan pancakes might have been better had they not been allowed to turn rancid (I have a delicate nose for this), I must spend a few hours in my king-sized room alone. I am not a Cougar and find the image of myself with a companion my own age distasteful, so the football field sized bed only has me fantasizing what it might have been like to have had it 40 or 50 years ago. (picture a blush here)