Eat my nachos, helpline

Is there some sort of rule that the more you know about a topic, the more condescending you… Is there some sort of rule that the more you know about a topic, the more condescending you become? Or is that more of a guideline? Because if it isn’t a rule and if it isn’t a guideline, then what I believe we are dealing with in this country is a spontaneous display of people sucking.

Since I have what could be described as the luck of Job – if not his status as a bargaining chip in a gentleman’s wager for God and Satan – with computer-related thing-a-ma-bobs, I was recently confronted with some technological trouble involving my computer. To be more precise, I was actually unable to turn on my computer after it acted a little goofy. I decided to immediately call the helpline and throw myself on the mercy of my extended care program.

That, I reasoned, is what buying the extra protection is there for. Money gives me someone to hold my hand, pat me on the head and tell me I did the right thing in calling him. Money lets me blithely ignore the problematic areas of modern living while being able to wallow in the more convenient trenches of current life. Money can do anything. Except, apparently, buy a more polite helpline.

Now, I grant you that I don’t know a lot of keyboard shortcuts or how to trick my computer out or anything, but I do have a basic, yeoman-like grasp of its functions. I understand that the power button turns it on and off, for example, and that I can make it produce documents and I can check my e-mail on it and all sorts of things like that. I consider myself well-versed enough in computer literacy that I’ll be able to slack at my future office job just like the rest of you. The helpline woman, however, didn’t think that what I knew was enough. In fact, she thought that what I knew was woefully inadequate and made sure that I picked up on the fact that she thought that during our entire, agonizing, 37-and-a-half-minute troubleshooting conversation.

She mocked everything about me, from my decision to install anti-virus software to my straight-legged jeans that fit weird about the ankles. No, no, she didn’t mention my jeans. But she could have because these are terrible jeans. Seriously.

But back to the abuse I received that wasn’t self-inflicted. I was treated as if I was slightly smarter than a section of granite, but certainly not as quick as a particularly alert-looking prairie dog. Note to computer helpline: Even if I can’t see you, I can hear your derision. And I don’t like your derision.

I’m not an idiot, you know? I mean, I’m not the brightest guy in the world or anything, but that doesn’t mean when I have a question about why my computer refused to accept the sleep function, I should be treated like I’m a absolute fool. I’m not. I can do a lot of stuff quite well. For instance, I make an excellent plate of nachos. But did that come up? No, of course not.

The only thing that came up was a constant tone of annoyance from the helpline, as if I was bothering them. Now, feel free to disagree with me here, but don’t you think if you take a job at a helpline, you might spend your time maybe, oh, I don’t know, helping people? Isn’t that why you work at the helpline? So people who know less than you can call you and you can help them? Isn’t that why they call the helpline? Or am I missing something? Feel free to help me out on this.

The thing is that the humiliation, while annoying, wasn’t the real problem. If it were just that this stressed-out helpline worker was having a bad day and decided to take it out on me, I’d be fine with it. Well, not fine, but you know. OK. But I don’t think it was just a bad day for this person. I think that this is a problem endemic to society.

Look around us – everyone is an expert at something. The world is starting to be populated by people who are extraordinarily well-informed about one topic and one topic only, and who thus feel that they are in the position of being able to act achingly superior to everyone who doesn’t share that expertise. You can see it on Pitchfork; you can read it in someone’s blog. We are all becoming self-satisfied experts: rulers whose kingdoms are populated only by the king.

In “Mostly Harmless,” a novel by Douglas Adams, a character from Earth winds up marooned on an alien planet. He thinks he’ll be able to help raise the alien’s civilization to gorgeous new heights, because of all the things he knows how to do from Earth. The only catch is, however, that he doesn’t actually know how to do anything. He can’t invent a computer, or harness electricity, or create penicillin. In the end, all he can do is the one skill he was actually an expert at on Earth: He can make a really good sandwich.

And let me tell you, my nachos are outstanding.

Vote Gilbert Arenas for MVP and e-mail kjs34@pitt.edu.