Not for the Squeamish
That’s right. Today, it’s Worst Case Wednesday. And here’s a true story.
Several years ago, I was working late on a monstrous spreadsheet with 50,000 cells of data. Don’t ask. As I reached for my coffee, I inadvertently knocked the cup onto my laptop’s keyboard. Not a little spill. The whole cup. And this wasn’t just any cup. It was a Starbucks “Venti,” three-quarters full of Caffé Mocha no whipped.
Mixing chocolate, coffee, and 50,000 cells of Excel generates an unfortunate outcome.
Here’s what I did. But full disclosure—I’m no techie. That night I was a stockbroker with a mess on my hands.
- Unplugged the laptop.
- Disconnected all USB ports.
- Turned the computer upside down.
- Cleaned up the spill.
- Called it a night, because the computer stores were all closed.
The New York Times describes my novels as “money porn,” “a red-hot franchise,” and “glittery thrillers about fiscal malfeasance.” Through fiction I explore the dark side of money and the motivations of those who have it, want more, and will steamroll anybody who gets in their way.
Well, if this happened several years ago, what was the outcome?
PS I’m not tech savvy, but I would have pulled out the hard drive before it caramelized.
My computer was toast. But the techies managed to save the files.
I’m impressed, Jeff. You know how to extract a hard drive from a portable?