I walked into the store in need of a new laptop. Sure, they had newer models, better models, but something drew me to you. Like an old dog at the pound, you were the one that nobody wanted. A store demo for a model they were no longer carrying, you sat there alone, price slashed, waiting for the right person to give you a home. And on that rainy day last March, you lucked out. I was in desperate need of a new laptop to get me through the rest of the school year, and all you wanted was someone to use you. It was a perfect, if fleeting match.
That isn't to say you were perfect. Far from it. You were as heavy as a cinder block, and as loud as a jet engine. Your big, fancy, high resolution screen never met a piece of dust, dog hair, or finger smudge it didn't love to attract and accentuate. Your keys stuck, and eventually fell off. Your touch pad worked sporadically. Your power chord never stayed in. Your battery only lasted for 45 minutes at a time.
Once, when I called support to help with an issue, I spoke with a fellow in India named "Paul". When asked to locate my serial number, I couldn't find it. Then I noticed it was scratched out. "Paul" began to question the legality of my acquisition of you, and I quickly hung up. I knew that any issue we had from there on out would be up to me to fix, lest "Paul" alert the authorities.
But your questionable lineage wasn't the worst part. You ran so hot that the one advantage you had over a desktop computer- that I could hold you in my lap- was rendered null because to do so meant burning myself. I have to think that had I not been wearing pants, I might have required medical treatment on more than one occasion. Often, when your power cord came out, the metal tip left a red welt on any exposed skin it could find. I had to start shutting you down when I left the house, even for the shortest trips, fearful that you would catch fire.
I knew the end was near a few weeks ago, when to use you meant a faint odor of burning plastic. You were dying, but I didn't want to believe it. Despite all your faults, you had been good to me. You worked quickly and efficiently. You had lots of memory. You always connected me to the internet without fail. And you were loyal to the end. Unlike my last laptop, who simply stopped working and lost all my stuff, you held on to let me save everything.
When I plugged you in yesterday and smoke started to emit from all of your holes, I knew it was over. But you gave me 38 minutes of battery life, enough to throw a pen drive into you and quickly save all of my files while you gasped your last breaths. You served me well, and lived much longer than I could have hoped.
You were loyal to the end, and despite all of your faults, you will be missed.
RIP, Shitty Gateway Laptop
3/14/06 - 1/16/07
