“…And then the fifth scroll was opened, and cities began to darken, and nuclear missiles began to launch by themselves. And Lo, I saw a fifth horseman, nerdy looking guy with spectacles, about fifty plastic devices clipped to his belt, and an evil grin on his face, and the name of the horseman was Massive Electronic Device Failure. And the multitudes screamed with frustration…�

-Chronicles of Darkside, Chapter 5, Verse 8

I burn through about one scanner per year. This unfortunate fact is partially due to the ever-changing world of software, which leads to Operating Systems updates and drivers that fall behind with the times, and partially due to my own extraordinary ineptitude.

I know what you are thinking, “Yeah? Well MY ineptitude is even MORE extraordinary!� Fine. I don’t want to fight about this. Point is, I burnt through yet another scanner, and so I went to the electronics store, full of hope and wide-eyed optimism. I found me a guy in a solid blue shirt that indicated Expertise In All Things Electronic and asked him what the best scanner was for a guy like me. He pointed one out, I picked it up with an enormous grin on my face and made the purchase. At the cash register the lovable middle-aged woman with the sadistic grin asked if I wanted to purchase the service plan for $19.99.

“What?� said I.

She repeated her question.

“Beg pardon?� quoth I.

She took several deep breaths and tried a different tact: “Customer want be able to get new scanner if this one go bad-bad?�

Finally a question I could understand. I nodded vigorously. Encouraged by my seemingly human behavior she continued.

“That cost money from customer.�

For those few in the audience as slow as I apparently am, a service plan is a plan where they take a great deal of your personal information and put it in their databanks so that you may return the item purchased should anything go wrong with it within two years and get a brand new one. Considering my apocalyptic misfortune with all things electronic or mechanical, I decided that this was just the sort of plan for me.

So the next thing I know, me and my plan are home cracking open the scanner box and removing the Infernal Machine with utmost care. As I pulled it out of the box and lifted the device lovingly wrapped in a smooth plastic bag, the smooth plastic bag caused a frictionless surface and the scanner slipped from the bag, which I was apparently holding upside down, and hit the floor with a jarring bang. There it lay, with one of its hinges popped off, opening at an angle it was clearly not designed to open at.

“Oops,� said I.

But hey, that wasn’t so bad. I mean so far as I could tell it was just the hinge. Nothing I actually NEEDED to make a scan. Heck, the whole cover could come off, just so long as I could slap it back on when I needed to scan. So I hooked the contraption to my rig and set to scan-testing. Thing is, when I tried, the scan bar just sat in the same place and scanned one spot. Drat, I thought, I’ve broken it in ways that count. I did, however, have a secret weapon: I had purchased the service plan!

So a few days later found me walking happily back into the store to the return desk and ask for an exchange.

“Do you have the receipt?� questioned the world-weary woman at the desk.

“I bought the service plan!� I announced with pride.

“Okay… do you have the receipt?�

“Service plan!�

“Look you thundering moron, give me the !@*&%^# receipt you got for buying this product!�

“Uh… I don’t have that,� I replied, desperately trying to maintain some sort of control over the situation, “But I DO have the service plan!�

She took the usual deep breaths that come whenever anyone talks to me for a short period of time, and said, “Fine, let me see your driver’s license and the credit card you used to buy this.�

These I gave her, hope still springing within my heart.

“Is your name Peter Biggins?�

“No. You have my driver’s license. That question was unnecessary.�

“The object you are returning, is it a surge suppressor strip?�

“I have it right here lady, you can plainly see it’s a scanner.�

“I can’t help you.�

“I got the service plan! I paid twenty bucks so I could break this thing!�

“You need to keep the receipt.�

“I need to hang onto the receipt for two years on the off chance it breaks?�

“Yes. Here’s a number you can call and pester them with your stupid questions. Go away.�

So I walked away seething with distress. Then my brother (not Aaron, the one that actually exists) stopped me at the door, and grabbed a manager. Twenty minutes later I was walking away with a new scanner. I don’t know how he did that.

So anyway, I get the new scanner home and it has the EXACT SAME PROBLEM! The little scan bar doesn’t move when it scans. So after a few choice words at high decibel, my brother inspected the errant plastic menace, flipped it over, turned a little knob, and the thing started working just fine.

Turns out they put bar-locks on scanners now to keep the scan bar from rattling around when you are transporting it. Who knew?

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