And she waited. Some few seconds, she thought, as she dove into her second donut. And she waited through the third donut and another mug of too sweet coffee.
She waited nearly a half an hour, trying to oblige the instruc- tions from the technocratic box on her desk. The Mac continued to work, so she thought, but the screen didn't budge from it's warning message.
What the hell, this has taken long enough. What harm can it cause if . . .
She turned the power switch off and then back on. Nothing.
The computer did absolutely nothing. The power light was on, the disk light was on, but the screen was as blank as a dead televi- sion set.
Mary called Violet Beecham, a co worker in another office down the hall.
"'Morning Vi. Mary."
Violet sounded agitated. "Yeah, Mare, what is it?"
"I'm being a dumb bunny and need a hand with my computer. Got a sec?" Mary's sweetness oozed over the phone.
"You, too? You're having trouble? My computer's as dead as a doornail. Won't do anything. I mean nothing." Violet was frustrated as all get out and the concern communicated to Mary.