Technology, however, wasn't always so advanced. Remember those days when we used the phone jack to get onto the Internet?
When I came to Boston in 1994 to attend BU's College of Communication (COM), my dad very generously purchased a laptop for me to use for school papers, and of course, to write letters to all my family members. I was thrilled to find my dorm had a computer lab and internet access so I quickly setup my school email account. What was even better was that there was internet access from your dorm room but you just had to configure your computer in a specific manner and I was told "I'd be all set!" All I had to do was plug the telephone cord into my laptop and access the BU ACS server. I wouldn't have to wait for a computer at the computer lab ever again!
I quickly ran up to my room with the instructions and pulled out my laptop. It was like christmas and I was about to unwrap the coolest holiday gift. I followed all the instructions and restarted my computer.
Error.
WTF?!?! I reconfigured the computer again following each step twice to make sure I could make this work. Restart. Error. Godammit!
I ran next door to my neighbour's room.
"Joanna! Are you there? It's Ch'ien. Can you access email from your room?" I panted.
Jo opened the door and let me in. She was already on her email.
"Would you mind checking out my computer? I can't seem to get onto the email?" I pleaded.
She went through the exact same steps and we both once again received the same error.
"That's so weird, Ch'ien. Try taking it to IT on Cummington street. They have a help desk there specifically for these problems," Jo suggested.
I knew where that was. It was right behind COM. I packed my laptop into its case and ran over to the IT helpdesk. I couldn't wait one moment! This issue had to be resolved immediately! IT was still open. It was God's recognition of my absolute impatience.
Two bearded white guys were chatting about Star Trek behind the helpdesk counter.
"Um, excuse me, I need some help," I started.
One of the guys rolled his eyes and turned to look toward me. I caught him give me the "up-down" look normally reserved for mean girls mocking fat chicks.
"Yeah, what's up?" he mumbled as he readjusted his glasses on his nose.
Was this denim and flannel wearing dork judging me in my Katharine Hamnett designer nylon trousers and Jigsaw sweater? How dare he! Ch'ien, regroup. You need his assistance to resolve your issue...
"Well I'm trying to log into my email from my dorm room and I keep getting an error message. I've followed all the instructions several times and I haven't seemed to have much luck. Could you check out my laptop, please?" I offered.
"Yeah, I guess I could," the dork replied. His buddy walked away. "Are you sure you followed all the instructions?" he continued.
"Yes! I even had my friend check it out and she's studying Computer Sciences!" I tried.
"Well, everything seems fine. Maybe it's the computer," he concluded.
He barely looked into anything! What kind of customer service was this? I wanted to smash the laptop into his acne infested face.
"So what am I supposed to do?" I asked.
"Well, you should probably send it back to the store you bought it from," he suggested.
"I can't do that because it was a gift and it's from Singapore."
"Well then give it back to the person who got it for you to take back to the store."
Was this guy serious?!?! What a dick! I was not about to ship this damned computer to Asia to have my dad ask some store person about logging into his son's email via his dorm room! I had to think quick and make something happen right away.
"Uh, well I can't really do that," I continued.
"Why not?" this dork was clearly starting to get agitated.
"Well, because it was a gift, from my sister," I managed to say with a quiver in my voice, "and she's passed away," I think I even managed to wring out some dry tears to my eyes.
"Oh! I'm so sorry to hear that! Let me take another look!"
I must say I felt bad to utter such words, but I also felt the victory of a squash match as I saw the dork tapping away on the keyboard of my laptop like a frantic idiot. In literally two minutes he had reconfigured my computer and sent me out on my way.
"You're all set," he said as I exited the IT building with the glass doors closing behind me.
As you might already know, my parents have three boys. I might be the daughter my mother never had, but I only have two brothers and have never had a sister.
I got back to my dorm room and successfully got onto the internet and decided to write to my brothers: Dear Dai-lo and Yee-ko... You'll never guess what just happened....
Being a superstitious Asian, I realise the seriousness of the lie I told about the death of an imaginary sister. It was a means to an end. But nonetheless, I would take full responsibility and guilt if I ever called any of my gays a sister and they were to die! That is why even to this day, fifteen years later, you'll only ever be a girlfriend, a lady, my bitch, but never, my sister!
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