I was reading The Crayon Fascist which was on Fresh Pressed earlier this week on WordPress.com
I was reading it and I recognized myself.
Not with crayons.
With MY computer.
Not the current one, but my first one. It was a Compaq Presario my mom bought me in 1999 as a graduation present. At the time I was posting bad poetry on-line from our school computers or from my dad’s because he had Internet. And I had met the most wonderful boi from England who I was conversing with via E-mail as often as possible.
He introduced me to IRC, which is short for Internet Relay Chat. It was like Twitter. You joined a server, connected in a chat room that was labelled by a hashtag #vampire was my very first IRC hang out.
Anyway, most of my friends did not have Internet, so they would come to my house and want to use my computer.
I would hover and make sure they weren’t harming my baby.
I think it was more I was jealous, I had friends over so I wasn’t allowed to be on the computer but they were.
People stopped asking to use it or would do so quickly.