I need to learn to disguise my frustration with Internet jargon, lingo, terms of art.
Today was a bit of a shopping day for me. I ventured to a couple of locations in Amarillo to find a gift for my much better half. One of them was Barnes & Noble, the famous bookseller.
I asked about a particular book. The young man looked it up online. “I’m sorry to tell you we’re sold out,” he said. “But I can order it for you.” I asked if it would get here by Christmas. “Oh, no.”
Then I mentioned that she has this Internet tablet. He asked if it was equipped with a “Nook” or some other kind of hookup.
That’s when I let it slip. I answered in a voice that dripped with exasperation: “I … don’t … know.”
My answer, or more to the point the tone of my voice, drew out-loud laughter from the six other customers who were gathered around the Customer Service kiosk.
A young man standing next to me said he understood my exasperation. A lady pointed to a man standing next to her who I presume is her husband and said “That sounds like someone I know pretty well.” The fellow about whom I think she was referring laughed … again!
This new Information Age has created a language that many of us don’t yet understand. I’m getting a bit more conversant in some of it. I am able to talk to the company that “hosts” my blog domain and am able to ask fairly intelligent questions. Two years ago I would have had the tech on the other end of the phone pulling his or her hair out by the roots.
My sons and my daughter-in-law know how to speak this language. I am guessing that very soon my 4-year-old granddaughter will be fluent in Internet-speak; indeed, her brothers already have learned the language.
Me? I’m going to work first on masking my ignorance.