File this one under "You Can't Get There From Here":

My laptop died over the weekend. One moment I'm multi-tasking away, the next I'm staring at a blue screen informing me in jargon I can barely parse that the computer has decided to go to the Bad Place for an extended holiday. Reboot? Same message. Reboot again? The same. Take out all of the batteries, power it down for an hour or so, then try another time? No such luck. Inform the laptop that if it does not cooperate and power on with no funny business I'll take it to the ocean and feed it to the crabs and lobsters? Silence, and again the ugly blue screen (how I hate that blue screen!).

So I, trying to be the informed, empowered consumer that corporate America is supposed to value these days, dust off the old desktop and go online to try and figure out what the hell happened. Mercifully, it doesn't take long - apparently I've experienced a Windows XP problem. Egads! They shipped XP when they knew it was still buggy? I'm so shocked I can barely type! No biggie, I think, I'll just order whatever fix I need to order and get on with the business of jacking myself back into the Continuum. When your laptop becomes an extension of self, you know you have serious problems. But I digress. Having diagnosed the problem, and found the solution, I figure I'm just a hop, a skip, and a jump back to a happy humming laptop, sans blue screen. I call COMPAQ, explain my situation, and ask for the CD-ROM I'll need to set things right.

"I'm sorry," the cheerful tech support person tells me. "But I can't authorize sending you a CD until we have a record of troubleshooting your computer."

This is not good. I'm not home at the time, so troubleshooting right then and there is not an option, nor will it be for a few nights hence, thanks to my schedule. And besides, didn't I troubleshoot the problem by going online to COMPAQ's own tech support website and successfully diagnose the problem?

Again the pleasant tech support drone: "I'm sorry. We can't give you the CD until we've officially troubleshooted the laptop."

Well, can't we be reasonable about this, I'm thinking. I ask if there's any way I could have gotten the specific error message I got, if the problem weren't exactly what I thought it was (and what there own website said it was, to boot)?

"I don't think so, but I still can't send you the CD without a troubleshooter's OK."

At this point I get a little obstinate. I didn't used to be obstinate with customer service people, considering I'm sort of kind of one myself during my day job. But I don't like where this conversation is going, and hope that maybe I can force someone's hand to just send me the damned CD without having to wait until later in the week.

"I'll talk to my supervisor. Please hold."

Okay. This is progress. Suddenly I'm feeling good about being impertinent. Maybe sometimes it does pay off. Hey, this could be a huge life-changing experience for me....

"Thanks for holding. I'm sorry, sir, but I just can't authorize that until you've been troubleshooted."

Now of course we all know that this is the moment of truth. Will I say thank you and hang up, or will I cross the threshold of jerkdom and start getting obnoxious. Remember, impertinence is good. Obstinacy can be a virtue. Mercy is for the weak.

Um, all right then, I say. Thank you. By the way, sorry for putting you out earlier.

"That's quite all right. Have a good day and thank you for calling the new HP, and COMPAQ Presario."

Man, what a pushover I am. So much for the jerky new me.