The Mac Arrives

The Mac arrives in a plain brown box,
brought to the door by a stranger
in uniform.

I slit the side.  It has paper triangles at each corner, tough and smooth, like playground equipment for juvenile pixies. 

I slide it out.


This is when the cat comes to help.
"You have a computer that is not full of cat hair," says the cat.  "I can fix that."

"Thank you," says I.

"Think nothing of it," says the cat.

The Macbook comes sitting on a soft cushiony black pad, with black and white things about it.

 





It's wrapped in a layer of thin plastic, which I remove, being handy that way.

The cat helps.

For a while I try to open the computer from the back, wrong way round.

"Hmmm . . ."  hmmms I to myself.  "I know this has a magnetic lock, but that is a very strong magnetic lock.

Eventually, I get it right.

and take the keyboard protection off.

Hello, Mac, says I.