MAC: Hi, I’m a Mac!
PC: Hi, I’m a PC!
USER: Yeah, we’ve met? I work with you [points to PC] at the office, and I work with you [points to MAC] at home.
MAC: Cool, ’cause I’m more informal and creative, right? And he’s all square and “official.”
PC: For your information, he works with me at the office because I run the 11-years-out-of-date text-editing program that his company still forces him to use.
MAC: But now Macs can run Windows, too! That means I also can run your 11-years-out-of-date text editor.
USER: YOU can’t run Windows. I bought you two years ago.
USER: Anyway, PC guy, I gotta give this story to the copy desk.
PC: SSDEFAULT,FD=11IN,PW=8.5IN, LM=0IN,RM=0IN,OF=1IN,1IN,OR=0,TP=0.5IN,
USER: Son of a bitch.
MAC: You forgot to “delete markers,” didn’t you?
USER: Pigs fucking donkeys [pounds “Delete” key twice].
USER: Godfuckingdammit [pounds keyboard].
MAC: Isn’t it pathetic when he freezes? He’s so tangled up inside. [Whispering] I think he’s a LATENT HOMOSEXUAL.
USER: Hey, while we’re waiting, can I see those photos I gave you?
MAC: Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh …. [Spins in place for 30 seconds.]
PC: Hi, I deleted those markers like you asked.
MAC: About time, Mr. Slow Boots!
USER: Where are my photos?
MAC: Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. [Spins.]
USER: Look at you! You’re as bad as he is.
MAC: What? Were you talking to me?
USER [accusingly]: You FROZE!
MAC: I did NOT.
PC: He did freeze, didn’t he?
MAC [changing the subject]: Ooo! Look what’s on YouTube! Bronson Arroyo said “shit!”
MAC: Cat got your tongue?
USER: He quit playing audio a few months ago. I have no idea why.
MAC: I play video AND audio! Look, here’s your music … uh …. Hey … uhh …. Uhhhhh.
USER: What the fuck, Mac-dude?
MAC: Hey, uh, I’m fine …. You might want to buy me more memory?
USER: Jesus Christ, look at you. You can’t finish a sentence. You still don’t know where those photos are. You’re filthy—you’ve got STAINS on you. And … did your FOOT just fall off?
MAC: It happens, man. It’s all good.
USER: And you’re asking me for a fucking UPGRADE?
MAC: Have you met my little sister? Dude, she’s way fast. She can do that Windows stuff. She, like, plays with ANYBODY. Maybe you need some new companionship, eh, hombre?
USER: You were fourteen hundred bucks! Two years ago!
MAC: She’s $1,500. Right now.
MAC: It’s just money, dude.
Guy is a 40-year-old single Manhattan man who has had several successful long-term relationships. He welcomes questions from New York single women at DearGuy@observer.com.
I’m a 38-year-old independent-film producer and I’ve been dating a man I’ll call “Ted,” a 34-year-old lawyer, for the last two years. (I know, I’m “robbing the cradle,” but hey—why not?!) We met when we started chatting while waiting for taxis at J.F.K. He insisted we share a cab even though we live at opposite ends of the city—finally, a real gentleman in this city of toxic bachelors! I feel we have a deep connection—he knows me so well and he shares his feelings very openly, because he’s had a lot of therapy. The only downside: His job keeps him really busy—we still only see each other on weekends. That was fine in the beginning of things, but I sort of feel like we should be moving along now. Couples who met while we’ve been dating have gotten married, but Ted always says that he’s taking this time to build up a future “nest egg.” Plus, being a lawyer isn’t his true passion—he also writes music and that’s where his heart is, and so he needs space to develop that. As a fellow artist, I understand this. Anyway, last week I heard through a friend of his that last week he signed up for a very pricy house share in Shelter Island—something he didn’t even discuss with me! For the first few days after hearing this, I assumed Ted was just waiting for the perfect moment to spring it on me as a fun, romantic summer surprise for us. But he hasn’t mentioned it. Do you think I should say anything?
Shelter-less in Sutton Hill
I’m a 38-year-old woman who has been single for so long, I can hardly remember what it’s like to be a half of a couple. But I love my independence—I bought my apartment a few years ago, hired a feng shui consultant to arrange the place, and now I absolutely adore living alone. A couple of months ago, while sitting outside at the Gowanus Yacht Club, I fell hard for a man named James. He isn’t my “type” (ugh, I hate that word … ). The type of guys I usually go for are artists or musicians, while James is an accountant. But I was wildly attracted to him from the start. He spent the next three nights at my place, and we’ve seen lots of each other over the past several weeks. Recently he told me he was in the process of separating from his wife. They’re still living in the same apartment, but he says they stopped sleeping together over a year ago, and that his soon-to-be ex-wife is certifiably insane. I told him that I don’t feel right seeing someone who was technically “married,” but he says that it was all just a formality, and to be truthful, I can’t imagine not seeing him. Yesterday, the ex-wife called me (she found my number on his cell phone) and told me that James was lying, that she was pregnant, and that I was one of several women he was sleeping with. I know this woman is crazy and delusional, and I know James has already been through a lot, so do you think I should tell him about the phone call? I’m afraid it will just stir up trouble and spoil what is the best relationship I’ve had in years.
Caring in Carroll Gardens
I am an animal lover living in New York. People don’t seem to realize how many abandoned animals are roaming the city streets. I started my own rescue organization over 10 years ago. It’s always been important to me that any man I meet respect the fact that this is not just a job for me. Other boyfriends have always been resentful of the attention I give to the animals I foster (at any given time I have a modest menagerie of stray and/or badly injured dogs, cats and birds in my apartment), but I’ve always felt that when the time was right, I’d meet someone who could share my home and my passion. I thought I had met such a man when I met Trevor. He is a widower with a great sense of humor and someone I truly enjoyed spending time with—he’s the first man I’ve dated who will do tai chi with me. He has proposed marriage, but has said that his only condition is that we give away the birds, particularly my talking parrots, Precious and Lady Henrietta and Sebastien. I simply refuse to do this—it goes against everything I believe in—but I also don’t want to lose someone I care about. How can I convince him that the birds are part of a home?
Perplexed in Park Slope