I swear, it was like we were all in the same room. Except that we couldn't see each other and were actually thousands of miles apart.

With less than twenty-four hours to go before my online classes officially started, I knew I had to figure out why I couldn’t wirelessly connect to our home network with my new laptop. Plugging in the Ethernet cable had been sufficient up to this point, but between the classes and camp, I needed to be able to leave the kitchen table. So I sucked it up and called Dell.

Eventually a voice that wasn’t prerecorded greeted me, and when it did, it was distinctly French-Canadian. “Hello, this is Nino,” he said. “How can I help you?”

I explained my issue and we began troubleshooting. He accessed my computer remotely so that we could both view and manipulate my screen. While we waited for software to load, he made conversation. “Barr—that sounds familiar.” I suggested current Libertarian candidate Bob. “Oh really?” he replied. “No, I was thinking of a doctor. Dr. Brady Barr? Are you related?” And then I remembered watching the National Geographic channel in middle school and being delighted at sharing a surname with a herpetologist. But of course I had to tell him no, unfortunately, I was not related to either.



We continued to attempt diagnostics. As we both stared at my desktop, watching a green download bar incrementally inch its way across the screen, he asked me who had taken my background picture. “They’re an artist,” he said. I told him my sister had snapped it at the beach last week.

Nothing was working, and we hit an insurmountable username/password page. I steeled myself for rejection, sure that Nino would tell me sorry, there was nothing else he could do at that point, would you please call back with the primary account holder so that we may access your wireless account? But Nino was not about to give up on me. He contacted Verizon, and soon Brian joined us in a three-way conference call. Pleasant but matter-of-fact, Brian quickly grasped the situation. It was a “known issue” between Dell wireless cards and Verizon, he said. He told us how to gain access to the page, and we began yet another software download. I sat silent while Brian and Nino hashed out the situation. I vaguely followed their discussion, trying to make words like “unsecured network,” “modem,” “firmware,” and “router” form pictures in my head. I felt distinctly out of my element, but safe and sure in the hands of Nino and Brian.

The download was taking some time, though, about six minutes, which is eternity in customer-service time. Brian was getting antsy. “Are there any other questions you have at this time?” he asked us. “Well then, thank you for choosing Verizon, and if you—”

“Just-just hold on there,” Nino interjected. He wanted Brian to stay on the line in case the download didn’t work out. So did I; I didn’t want to have to go through the automated Verizon phone maze again if we didn’t have to. An awkward silence ensued.

“Sounds like you’ve got a busy day there, huh?” Nino offered to him.

“You could say that,” Brian returned. He muttered something about not having done enough of something so far today, and Nino concurred. “I have the same thing,” he said.

Eventually, the download completed. I asked Nino later why it took so long, and he explained that DSL gets split between the computers that are using it. I’m glad I didn’t mention that my sisters were streaming the season finale of Lost on another laptop. We successfully connected to the home network, and Brian gladly bid us goodbye.

Nino and I restarted my computer. To make sure we could access the internet, he googled Mr. Bean. “One of my favorites,” he said. “Do you have any favorites?” I told him Mr. Bean was fine with me.