Jack Wilton, hospitalized

My faithful PowerBook, Jack Wilton, had to go into the computer hospital today. He'd been hacking for a week or so, and based on some research I did, I'm pretty sure it's an infection somewhere in his RAM.

So I took him in, and explained what I'd been doing to the guy at the helpdesk. Ruh-roh. Picture it: behind Sir Help Desk, two guys are playing GranTurismo on a shiny black PS3. In the corner a woman is playing WoW. Sir Helpdesk has Counterstrike on the XBox 360 behind *him.* And does he listen to a word I say? No. He asks for my contact information, and hands me a little printout. "It might be a while. They might have to buy a part."

Tech Support and bike stores: abandon hope of being treated like you know anything, all ye who enter.

And I'm without my computer! Is it sad that I feel naked without it?