April 6, 2026

Dell Sweet

Posted by Dell

Tech support:

                so I’m at the dollar store with Mom a few months back at she spies these pink cell phones and decides to buy one to support Breast Cancer and it’s a good cause and it says it’ll be so easy to move your number, set it up. A snap, plus it comes with two Cadillacs full of minuets and a camera, and, well, it’s pink. So she buys it. I was for it because basic I am a cheap kind of guy and I would end up with her old phone which is perfectly fine it’s just old. It’s been perfect for four years. No problems. Just ate minuets and pooped data, or phone calls. Bad analogy there but you get the idea. So, great phone, just old and a new one beckoned. I would bet there are people reading this who have almost gotten into relationship problems using that same reasoning.  Funny the double standards we have, eh?

    So, she buys the phone, we go home and I go to work on the computer because other than going to church once a week and chasing Horny Tom Cat’s away from my Fred cat that’s about all I do. So I typed away for a few minuets but I kept hearing these sighs, and mutterings, so finally I said… “Uh, Mom… Everything okay?”

    Lets set the record straight I knew everything was not okay but I was hoping for an answer like “I’m taking this $#@%^ phone back it’s junk!” Yes. I was actually hoping for that answer. Instead I got … “I can’t figure it out. I’m doing exactly what it says…”

    “Okay,” I soothed. I am a man. I know how to fix these things and most of the time I don’t even have to read the Manuel. I didn’t say that. I have learned not to say it because it just turns out to be that one time when I can’t do it and I look stupid. So I took the phone and spent the next hour doing all the same things Mom had and getting nowhere.

    “$#@**%# Phone,” I said.

    “I told you,” Mom agreed. “There’s a number to call.” She held up a piece of paper and I couldn’t help wondering why she hadn’t given me the piece of paper earlier when I could have possibly used it. But then I reminded myself that I never would have used it anyway.

    “Hmmm.” I frowned and looked over the number. “So. You have a phone that doesn’t work and they give you a tech number to call.”

    “Well you have the other one.”

    “Yes. But what if I didn’t?”

    Mom shrugged and I realized the stupidity of my own question, still, didn’t it sort of make sense? Isn’t it sort of like offering a drunk a drink while he waits? I don’t know. Reluctantly I punched the number into the other cell phone, pretty much jambed the end of the cell phone halfway into my brain and waited.

    I touched on this the other day. I had never had to call tech support in the last ten years. There is no Tech support in prison…

    “Hello?”

    “Hello.”

    “Tech support?”

    “No. There is no tech support in prison. Stop calling here you moron.”

    “But I’m in prison!”

    Dial tone…

    The phone stopped burring and an Voice came on the line. Computer voice. Push one for billing issues, two if you’ve had an affair with a politician, three for technical support. I pushed three but I didn’t push it fast enough because the whole thing played again. I ended up having to call back and immediately press three.

    Now, let me say this delicately, why would you get a job in tech support in America if English is not your first language? And, why would a major company hire you. After thirty seconds of trying to understand the woman I gave the phone to Mom hoping the kindred spirit thing would kick in but no, she couldn’t understand her either. She gave me back the phone. Apparently womaneez doesn’t cross the language barriers easily.

    It must have been about two hours later and the third string of numbers the woman had given me before the phone finally began to work.

    “You are being happy with your experiences?” The tech asked me.

    “Are you serious,” I asked?

    “Yes. Of Course. Serious is what I am being.”

     “Oh God,” I said aloud. “Have you ever heard this?”

    “Yes? I am Listening.” She obviously thought we had bonded.

     I hung up. Mean, I know.

    Two days later there was a recall on Mom’s Coffee Maker. I called tech support.

   “Yes? I am being happy to be taking your call.”

    “Never mind I’ll buy a new one.” I said

    A week later my new laptop croaked. I called customer service.

     “Yes? I can be helping you?”

     “What? Do you work for the Coffee maker place?”

    “No. That is my sister, Sari.”

    Tech support…


Here is a Thriller you might like… Zero Zero

As the clock ticks down for our planet and her inhabitants, powers that have lain dormant for centuries are loosed on the Earth. #Horror #Kindle #Amazon #Biblical #Christian #Fiction



Home: https://www.wendellsweet.com


by W. G. Sweet 

#Crime #Fiction #Amazon #KU #Kindle #WGSweet #Mafia #Organizedcrime

Book 1 of 2: Kingpin

The city breathed with a rhythm all its own, a symphony of sounds and smells that were as much a part of Vinnie LaRosa as his own heartbeat. Little Italy, mid-20th century, was a vibrant, chaotic organism, its narrow streets a pulsing artery crammed with life. From the cramped tenements that clawed at the sky, their fire escapes a tangled lace against the brick, to the bustling trattorias that spilled the rich, intoxicating aroma of simmering tomato sauces and roasted garlic onto the cobblestones, the neighborhood was a constant, humming presence. Laundry flapped like colorful prayer flags from windows, a cacophony of Italian dialects spilled from doorways, and the ever-present rumble of streetcars added a bass note to the urban opera. #Crime #Fiction #Amazon #KU #Kindle #WGSweet #Mafia #Organizedcrime


Home: https://www.wendellsweet.com


The Streets

By Wendell Sweet

One evening, I found myself back at the scene of the car accident—the snow-covered road where my life nearly ended. The scars on my body served as tangible reminders of that brutal night; the emotional scars were far deeper. The silence was deafening, broken only by the occasional rustle of the wind. The cold night air, the harsh sounds of snow crunching under my boots; it all was reminiscent of the night that would nearly cost my life. Standing there, I felt a wave of sadness, a flicker of the old fear, but it quickly subsided. The trauma was still there, woven into the fabric of my being, but it no longer controlled me. I had faced it, processed it, and emerged stronger.#True #NonFiction #Crime #Memoir #Kindle #KU Kindle:

Audible: https://www.audible.com/pd/Audiobook/B0FQVL39PF


Home: https://www.wendellsweet.com