Boy, was I raring to get to grips with my first MP3 player. Yep, a Christmas present from my girlfriend.
Read the instruction manual (of the player that is--not my girlfriend, though wouldn't life be easier if women came with instruction guides?). As usual, I couldn't make much sense of the information. Obviously it had been translated from Klingon by an online translation program.
Undeterred, I plugged the gadget into my PC and transferred some cool albums. Call me old-fashioned but I actually own the artists' CDs. I think I'm the last person on earth still buying the things.
Soon I was listening to the last Echo and the Bunnymen album. ("Siberia" -- highly recommended!)
Then the player decides to shut it itself off. What the-!
Okay, don't panic Richie. Check the instructions. Damn Klingon. Hmm. Seems that I might have to reload the driver for the gizmo. Done. Hey! It works!
Three minutes later... no it doesn't. Grrr!
"Why don't you check the battery?" says my girlfriend.
Ha! What an idiotic suggestion. I am a man! Technology is my abode. I eat silicon chips and I crap fibre optics. I used to own a ZX Spectrum for god's sake. Don't you think I'd know if the battery was a dud?
Four hours and many failed attempts later, I decide, on a whim, to change the battery. It works.
So, my girlfriend is currently dancing around the flat listening to her favourite songs while I'm writing this from the doghouse. You know, I was a lot happier when I thought MP3s were some new and improved kind of politician.