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Screw you, Rainblow

[warning, strong language ahead]

It’s official, people: buying an Apple computer in Greece means shit to anyone. You are deprived even of your most basic customer rights, the moment you lay your hands on that shiny new piece of sex.

My charger died suddenly 3 days ago, leaving me confused and anxious to see what’s next. I tried Multirama, the store I bought my Macbook from, but they immediately sent me to Rainbow.

Taking a deep breath, I decided to give them poor people a go, ignore all the negative hype and see for myself the quality of their service.

And I can pretty much summarize it as bullshit.

I’ve called them over 30 times (messed up with the telephone my whole morning at work) and managed to speak to an actual person (a secretary?) thrice.

Obviously, she was in no position to tell me what to do and I had to call the super-busy “technician” who kept talking and talking and talking (and when he was not talking, he was not picking the damn phone up).

I gave her my address and phone number three fucking times. I explained to her the situation three fucking times. And she confirmed that the ’technician’ will call me back three fucking times.

Needless to say, I’m still waiting for that phone call. Stupid, ignorant people. What’s worse, I’ve not encountered one greek tech service that can do better than that.

Greeks suck royally in tech issues and it’s better for us to admit it, now.

All that comes in a fortunate moment for Apple, the sexy new iMacs announced and such. I’m probably getting one for me on Christmas, but deep down I know: if anything goes wrong, I’m screwed again.

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Drivers beware.

As you may have noticed, I’m anything but an occasional blogger, since most of the times, real life matters (*ahem*WoW*ahem) tend to drag me away from blogging (mind you, never from my macbook).

This time it was my driving license. I had to attend 28 hours (yeah, I was an amateur driver, go figure) of driving lessons which were (in)conveniently arranged just after my day job.

I hate having things to do after work, so imagine me having driving lessons for almost two months. If you exclude the pure joy of driving, nightmare. Tiring and bothersome and definitely not recommended.

But after all, all this ordeal paid off. Since yesterday, I’m supposed to be a certified driver. You’ll never know how happy this makes me, since it was a dream for God knows how long.

If you meet me while driving somewhere in Heraclion, feel free to say hi. You’ll know who I am, the brunette that’s pissing you off with slow driving. Curse and I’ll curse back, promise.

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