Sam’s Computer Repair Shop

Sam’s Computer Repair Shop

I stood in front of the door. I read the sign above it for the third time. Sam’s Computer Repair Shop. It just didn’t look like any computer service store I’d ever been to. The plate glass windows on either side of the door were blacked out. I hesitated to open the door. I wasn’t afraid of what I might in there. It was just that I had a peculiar feeling. I couldn’t put it into words though. Maybe it was just that whenever I have wanted to get my computer fixed or updated or something I couldn’t handle technologically, I went to a place called Alphatech Computer Sales and Service, and guess what, it looked like a computer repair shop. This place didn’t. When I peered through the glass door it seemed dark inside and even though it’s located on a busy main street, it looked as if it should be in a back alley in a not so nice part of town. But this was where I was told to go by a friend who swore by the place.

“You’ll get the best service there,” he told me, “I personally guarantee it.” Now when someone personally guarantees something, you have to take that guarantee seriously, and I did. It sounded like a commercial and that’s why I stood there with my back to the busy traffic flying behind me, possibly about to enter a time warp. I opened the door and bravely walked in, and I was right, I had entered a time warp. Maybe a black hole, maybe a worm hole. But it was a hole of some sort. Now I don’t however mean that negatively.

There was a narrow pathway which was marked by a worn part of the carpet, but on either side there were boxes upon boxes piled high together with computer manuals and yes, a Commodore 64 and oh my look, a Nintendo with Mario Brothers still running around in circles on the cathode ray tube. You’ve got to be kidding me, I said to myself under my breath, wait till I see Robert tomorrow.

I was about to turn around and walk out when I heard a voice call me from somewhere in front. When my eyes became used to the low level light, I ascertained it was a woman’s voice who had said can I help you. Now you have to understand, when I entered the store it was 12 o’clock on Monday April 25 2022, but now I had definitely been transported back to the early 1980s. I wanted to say to the woman who finally came into focus, “that’s all right. I think I made a wrong turn just before I opened the door.” But her voice was rather calming, soothing was more like it, and so instead of turning and bolting, I remained affixed to my spot on the carpet between the mile high pile of boxes and computer manuals and Commodore 64s and Nintendos and forced a smile.

“I was told to come here to get my computer fixed.”

“That’s what we do here, honey,” she said, “that’s why we have computer repair over the door.” She was an older woman, though that’s wrong of me to say because she was probably my age, with grey hair pulled back in a severe bun, eyes that shone in the dark, but a rather charming smile. “What can we do for you?” she added sensing that I hadn’t taken a step towards her yet, which she must’ve seen as a bad sign.

I pointed to the lap top I was carrying under my right arm. “I need this fixed,” I said rather foolishly.

“Sure, what’s wrong with it?” she asked nicely.

“I don’t know. It just didn’t switch on when I tried to turn it on earlier.” I suddenly realised that what I had just said made no sense at all. She could tell I was nervous. Maybe I wasn’t the first person to enter the premises and stand rooted to the same spot on the carpet as me, between the walls of computer boxes. I think she sensed that.

“Why don’t you bring it over here,” she said reaching out her right arm maybe like a traction beam which would mobilise me to walk towards her. It worked. I found myself slowing moving in her direction. I was now right in front of her. She was a pretty woman and her smile did seem genuine. She adeptly lifted herself off her seat and reached under my arm and removed the laptop. She set it down on the counter and as she did, a guy walked over. He must’ve been hiding behind one of the numerous boxes behind the counter. She handed it to him.

“Doesn’t work you said?” he asked removing what looked like an eye piece from his right eye. I felt that any second his eye would fall out, maybe that eye piece was holding it in. I was glad my assumption was wrong.

“That’s correct,” I screeched clearing my throat. “That was a frog in my throat,” I said quickly feeling a little embarrassed, but they ignored what I said. The man who I assumed was Sam opened the screen and tapped the on off button.

“Probably something wrong inside,” he said after a moment of examining every side of it. I could’ve told him that. But my friend told me he was very capable.

“Ok,” I said quietly not wanting to screech again. “Can you fix it?”

“Yes, I’m sure of that. Have it back to you by the end of the week if that works for you.?” It worked for me just fine.

“Excellent,” he replied and put the laptop down on the counter and without being told, the lady began to write up a receipt.

“You have a lot of boxes here,” I said unintendedly and then once I had, I was afraid of what he might say.

“Yes,” he replied nonchalantly, “we have been repairing computers for decades now and so I just leave the boxes on the floor when the owners leave them behind.” Yes, there was a whole other conversation to be had there, but I decided that it just wasn’t the right time to remain any longer than I needed to. I wanted to get out as soon as possible and then prepare myself to return on Friday. The lady tore out the receipt out of a book and yes, she had carbon paper between the sheets. I hadn’t seen one of those in decades and handed it to me. I didn’t read it. I folded it and put it into my pocket. I heard the door behind me open. For some reason I was afraid to see who it was, but I did have to leave. I turned and saw a man I recognised but couldn’t quite place him. Now where have I seen him before? I was racking my brains. I passed him, but he appeared not to notice me.

“Hello professor,” I heard the man who I assumed was Sam address him.

“Hello Jack,” he replied. Oh, dear I guess the guy wasn’t Sam. I wondered if there was actually a man called Sam or whether he had made a wrong turn in amongst the boxes and was lost forever. “Did my flux capacitor arrive yet?”

“Yes, it actually did just a few minutes ago. Let me get it for you.”

I have no idea how that conversation ended because I was already halfway down the block by the time he had finished his sentence. And now I have to prepare myself to return on Friday.