Mac vs. PC Page 2

  Anna almost felt sorry for her. “I don’t teach one.”

  “Why not? You should. I actually understood what you just told me, and that’s a first.”

  “Well, thank you. But I don’t have nearly enough time to teach; I’m too busy saving the asses of people like you.”

  Elizabeth let out a very unladylike snort. “Touché. And we’re grateful, I can assure you.”

  Liking her more by the second, Anna said, “Tell you what. We’re going to set your Word program to put those autosave files somewhere a little more intuitive. If you were going to look for an autosave file, where do you think it should be?”

  “Um.” Elizabeth clicked back into the file explorer and looked through the directories. “I think it should be right here in my main directory.”

  “Okay. Then make it.” Anna sat back as Elizabeth created a new folder and named it. “Good. Now make a folder inside that one and call it Word.”

  “Why? Can’t I just assume that any file in here is going to be the one I’m looking for?”

  “That depends. Do you use any other programs besides Word that create autosave files?”

  “Ah. Good point.” A moment later another new folder had been created and named.

  “Perfect. Now go back to Word. All right, now click on tools in the menu. Now options. And now you want the file locations tab.” She pointed. “See where it says file types? Now click on autosave.”

  “Jesus Christ,” muttered Elizabeth as she clicked. “Why do they make it so hard?”

  “Is this a good time to tell you that it’s easier in just about any program written for a Mac?” Anna laughed at the glower that earned her. “Didn’t think so. All right, click on modify.”

  “Aha. And this is where I tell it to go to the folder I just made.” Elizabeth was off and running. “There. Right?”

  “Right. Now you’re set. The next time Word crashes and fails to bring up your temp file, you know right where to find it.”

  Elizabeth looked over with an expression of true gratitude. “Thank you so much. You really did just save my ass.”

  “No problem. I’m always glad to help demystify things that are supposed to be simple.” She rose from her chair. “Well, I’ll let you get back to your report.”

  “Wait.” Elizabeth stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Can I buy you another coffee or whatever it is you’re drinking?”

  “Thanks, but one a week is all I’m allowed. I appreciate the offer, though.”

  “Will you take a rain check?”

  Anna saw more than just courtesy in Elizabeth’s expression. And then it occurred to her that this woman was new in town and probably looking for friends. She knew from her own experience that building a social circle from scratch was the hardest part of moving. Finding a decent mechanic or hairdresser was simple by comparison.

  “I come here every Saturday morning,” she said. “How about next week?”

  “Deal,” said Elizabeth. “Same time?”

  Nodding, Anna said, “And same table.”

  “Great. I look forward to it.”

  They exchanged smiles before Anna stepped over to her own table. Her mocha had cooled a bit, but she didn’t mind. She was a sucker for a great smile, and Elizabeth’s definitely qualified.

  Okay, where was I? Right—the ferry to Tangier.

  CHAPTER 2

  After a busy week at work, Anna had nearly forgotten about her Saturday appointment. She’d slept in a bit and was puttering around the house when her memory finally decided to kick in, reminding her that she needed to be at the Bean Grinder in about—she looked at the clock—ten minutes.

  “Shit! Damn, damn, damn!” She hated being in a rush on her only relaxing mornings. Frantically she dashed about the house, dumping her breakfast dishes in the sink, trading her baggy sweatpants for some decent jeans, then running into the bathroom to brush her teeth. A hopeless case of bedhead defied all efforts to tame her much-too-curly blonde hair, and she had no time for a shower. Great. Nothing for it but a ponytail, then.

  With her hair corralled into a scrunchie, she stopped in the hall long enough to slip on some shoes, then grabbed her keys and coat and went out the door. Though it killed her to drive, she didn’t have enough time to walk. As it was, she pulled into a parking spot right on time and hastened through the door, looking for a familiar face.

  Elizabeth waved from the corner table, an open smile lighting her features. “Hi there,” she said when Anna came within speaking distance. “Thanks for coming.”

  The in-a-hurry tension drained from Anna’s body as she stopped next to the table. “I told you, I come every Saturday.”

  “Yes, but do you always come at this time?”

  Was it that obvious? “Well, I do vary it a bit, depending on how long I sleep in.”

  “No doubt. I just got here, too, and haven’t had a chance to order anything. Why don’t you sit down, and I’ll get our drinks?”

  Anna turned and gazed at the display case. Though she couldn’t distinguish the individual pastries from this distance, she could see the empty plate where her precious scones were supposed to be. “Can’t do that,” she said. “I have to get my chocolate cherry scone, and they’re not in the case. Which means Kyung is holding one back, and he won’t give it to anyone but me. At least he’d better not.”

  “Kyung. That charming young man working the front counter?”

  “That’s him. Double chemistry/biology major. Last week he was sweating a biology midterm; I want to hear how he did.”

  “I’ll go with you, then.” Elizabeth rose gracefully, and with a start Anna realized she’d never seen the woman standing up. Elizabeth topped her by a good four inches, and a quick glance revealed that none of them were heels. Damn. She hated being short.

  Together they walked to the counter, waiting patiently while Kyung put together what might have been the world’s most complicated coffee order for a young student whose ears could hardly be seen for the piercings.

  “I swear,” Elizabeth said in a low tone, “every year the kids get younger. It’s to the point now where I see the freshmen come in and I wonder how they can possibly have driver’s licenses.”

  Anna smothered a chuckle. “I know,” she murmured. “And have you noticed that the older you get, the more invisible you become?”

  “Sadly, yes. It’s like they’re not programmed to recognize anyone over twenty-five unless the person is giving a lecture.”

  “And sometimes not even then.”

  Elizabeth laughed, earning a quizzical look from the young woman, who was just turning away with her drink. Anna stepped up and met Kyung’s expectant grin.

  “Hi, Ms. Petrowski.”

  “Ms. Petrowski?” echoed Elizabeth with a raised eyebrow.

  “I’ve tried for two years to retrain him to call me Anna. This year I really had high hopes, but no.”

  Kyung’s grin grew larger. “Keep trying. The usual, or are you going to amaze me today?”

  “No shocks today. And she’s buying.” Anna pointed. “She’s also going to give you a big tip for saving my scone. You did save my scone, right?”

  With a flourish, he produced a covered plate from beneath the counter. “Of course. And what will you have, Ms. …?”

  “Elizabeth,” said Elizabeth firmly. “And I’ll have a latte with extra foam.”

  “Coming right up.” Whistling, he pulled down two mugs and began the process of alchemy.

  “So what’s so special about this scone?”

  Anna followed Elizabeth’s gaze and pulled the plate a little closer. “It’s the best pastry in this whole town, and they only bake them on Saturdays. I’m sure if you got a chance to taste one, you’d agree. Unfortunately, there’s only the one.”

  Elizabeth smiled. “Message received. I’ll keep my paws off.”

  “It’s best that way. Kyung,” Anna called over the sound of the steamer, “how’d the midterm go?”

  He looked over h
is shoulder. “I don’t know yet, but I felt good about it. Just had a moment of panic when I couldn’t remember the difference between xylem and phloem.” He faced forward again and began fine-tuning the foam in the milk he was steaming.

  “Good Lord,” said Anna. “I don’t think I ever knew the difference between whosit and whatsit.”

  “Xylem and phloem,” Elizabeth said. “Vascular tissues in plants. Xylem circulates water from the roots through the stems and leaves, and phloem circulates sugars from the opposite direction. The sugars are the product of photosynthesis. Just remember that water goes up, and sugar comes down. Simplistic, but fairly accurate.”

  “Well, it’s obvious where you work,” said Anna. “And it’s not in Technology Support Services. Forestry?”

  “In a manner of speaking. I deal with forestry research.”

  Kyung finished his alchemy and brought two mugs back to the counter. “Here you are, Elizabeth. One double caramel mocha and one latte with extra foam.”

  “What?” Anna stared at him. “Elizabeth? Just like that?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know her last name.”

  “And you’re not going to,” Elizabeth said. “What do I owe you?”

  “Eight fifty, please.”

  “But—wait a minute! That’s not fair, you already knew my last name from your mother!”

  “Thank you, Kyung.” Elizabeth’s voice betrayed her amusement as she handed over a ten-dollar bill. “Keep the change.”

  “Thank you, Elizabeth,” he said happily and rang up the sale.

  “Did you two prearrange this?”

  “Are you coming?” asked Elizabeth, already walking away.

  “Enjoy your scone, Ms. Petrowski,” said Kyung, barely restraining a laugh.

  Anna leveled a mock glare at him, but it was impossible to hold it in the face of his obvious delight. She shook her head and followed Elizabeth to their table. Dropping her laptop into one chair and sliding into another, she said, “I never had a chance. And now I’m envious. Just so you know, I had considered letting you sample my scone, but now I’ve changed my mind.”

  “Well, how was I to know that? You just got finished intimating to me that you’d never share. Besides, how is any of this my fault?”

  Having no answer to that one, Anna bit into her scone and moaned in bliss as the flavors burst across her tongue. “Mmm. I do love Saturdays.”

  Elizabeth sipped her latte with considerably less drama, a smile hovering at the corners of her mouth. “Wow. I guess you do. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone look so—” She paused as a pink flush crept up her neck. “Happy while eating,” she finished.

  “Go ahead, you can say it.” Anna picked off a chunk and noted the fat chocolate chip nestled inside. “Looks orgasmic, doesn’t it?” She popped the piece in her mouth and rolled her eyes back, mumbling, “Oh, yeah. So good.” By the time she looked at Elizabeth again, the pink had spread up to her cheekbones. “Nice blush you have going there,” she observed. “I guess now we’re even.”

  “Jesus.” Elizabeth fanned her face with a napkin. “Do you really look like that every time you have a scone, or is this just a show for revenge?”

  “Well, I don’t actually know what I look like when I eat a scone. Never did it in front of a mirror.” She winked. “But I don’t usually do the ‘so good’ part.”

  “That’s a relief. For a minute there I was flashing onto the restaurant scene in When Harry Met Sally.”

  “I love that scene! When the waiter asks the woman in the back what she’d like to order, and—”

  “And she says, ‘I’ll have what she’s having,’” Elizabeth finished as they both laughed. “I thought I’d pee my pants when I saw that in the theater.”

  “Me too. The other one that killed me was the airplane scene, when Harry describes his dancing as the white man’s overbite…” Anna bit her lower lip and raised her fists to chin level as she imitated the awkward, jerky head movement.

  “Yes, and it’s so true! How many guys have you seen who dance like that?”

  “Every guy in my high school.”

  “Exactly.” They snorted over this truism and then lapsed into silence while sipping their drinks. Before it could become awkward, Elizabeth asked, “I’m curious. If you’re not working on weekends, why do you bring your laptop? You were studying it pretty hard last Saturday.”

  “Oh, that wasn’t studying. That was research. For fun, I mean.”

  “On what, if I can ask?”

  “You can ask. I’m saving up for an overseas trip. And I’m seriously thinking about going to Portugal and Spain, with a quick side trip to Tangier just to set my feet in Africa.”

  “Really? That sounds fantastic! I’ve dipped into northern Spain from France, but never got any farther south than that.”

  “Where did you go?” Anna was instantly fascinated; the only thing better than reading about travel was talking to someone who’d done it.

  “We did kind of a loop. Down through the Pyrenees to Barcelona, and then over to… Damn, I can’t remember the name of the city.” She frowned in thought.

  “Hang on.” Anna set down her drink and pulled out her laptop. As she waited for it to boot, she said, “We’ll just find a map, and you can show me. Ah, here we go.” She typed in her password.

  “It boots that quickly?”

  “It’s a MacBook Pro,” Anna said. “They’re fast. And the operating system is fast, too. There’s a big advantage to having a lean, clean operating system versus one that’s been built layer upon layer upon big, heavy layer like Windows.”

  “Mac bigot,” Elizabeth said with a smile. “Aren’t you supposed to be more open-minded when you’re working in IT?”

  “I’m a Mac bigot because I work in IT. I have to deal with all the crap Windows creates on a daily basis, when people like you need something done and your computer gets in your way instead of helping you. Believe me, my distaste comes honestly. Besides, Macs are fun to work with. Here, watch.” With a keyboard shortcut, she activated the Google search in her launcher, typed in “Spain map,” and hit the enter key. Instantly, her browser launched, opening on the Google search results. She clicked on the best-looking image link and sat back as the map filled her screen, the entire exercise having taken all of four seconds. “How’s that?”

  Elizabeth’s look of surprise was comical. “How did you do that? I didn’t even see half of it.”

  “Do you really want me to show you?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Okay.” Anna quit the browser and went through the steps in slow motion, explaining what a launcher was as she typed. Even with explaining the process, it still took no time at all.

  “Oh, I want one of these. Can you teach me how to do this on my computer?”

  “Yes, but it won’t look the same. This is a launcher written for OS X. For your computer, we’d have to install a launcher written for Windows.” Anna activated her launcher again, typed in the name of a program, and a moment later brought up a screenshot in a new tab. “This is the best one I know of.”

  Elizabeth examined it with a jaundiced eye. “I like yours better. It’s cleaner and doesn’t take up so much space on the screen.”

  “You can’t have mine unless you buy a Mac. And if you buy a Mac because of me, I get a toaster.”

  “You what?” Elizabeth began to laugh. “I had no idea.”

  “We spread our perversion insidiously,” Anna said in a low voice. “Converting innocents with the eye candy on our sleek silver machines, forcing them to enjoy their computers rather than fighting with them… Terrible, all of it.”

  Snorting, Elizabeth said, “And it is a sleek silver machine, I have to say. It’s really gorgeous. I’ve never thought of any computer as being sexy, but this one is.”

  “Thank you.” Anna patted her laptop. “I think so, too, and I will freely admit that sex appeal is part of the attraction for me. But the rest is much more pragmatic. The operating system
is intuitive, which means that the average user can do a lot more on her own before having to give up and call me for help. It doesn’t crash as often. It’s much more secure. My God, if you knew how many trojans and worms and viruses and spyware I’ve had to take off the PCs on this campus… If everyone at OSU used Macs, the time savings on security alone would probably free up three, maybe three and a half FTE for other things. Other, much more useful things.”

  “You spend the equivalent of three full-time positions each year just pulling off spyware and viruses?”

  “At least. It’s a big campus; there are a lot of PCs. And most of them are constantly online and constantly exposed, despite the university firewall. And then they share that crap with each other.”

  “Anna, you’re talking about a lot of wasted money there.”

  “Tell me about it.” Anna shrugged. “What can I do? People want what they’re used to. And the managers all think PCs are cheaper, so they never even consider Macs. But they’re basing their cost comparisons on an incomplete picture. And my department pays the price instead.”

  “Hm.” Elizabeth seemed a little faraway for a moment, then refocused on the screen. “Show me what else this thing can do. Maybe you’ll earn a toaster. I’ll bet you’ve got a lot of them stashed at home.”

  There was something about the way she said it that caught Anna’s attention. And when their eyes met, her suspicion was confirmed. Elizabeth understood the reference all too well—she was family.

  The knowledge sent a tingle down Anna’s spine, and for a moment she was tongue-tied. Interaction as a friend or as a computer geek was easy and second nature to her. Interaction with a possible romantic undertone was something entirely different, and she sucked at it.

  Still looking at her, Elizabeth said, “Zaragoza.”

  “Wh-what?”

  Mercifully, Elizabeth broke their gaze and gestured at the laptop. “May I?”

  “Uh, sure.” Anna nudged her laptop over, happy to have something else to focus on.

  Elizabeth clicked on the first tab in the browser, bringing up the forgotten map of Spain, and pointed. “Zaragoza. The city I couldn’t remember. We started in Toulouse and came down to Barcelona this way. It looks fairly straight, but believe me, it’s not. And then we took this route over to Zaragoza—really pretty countryside—and then to Tudela, here. Then we went north to Pamplona because I’ve always wanted to see it, and from Pamplona we zigged over to Irun and then up and around and back to Toulouse.”