Innocent, I tell you!

When Jen returned home from New York last week, I could have done a better job of breaking the news about the sudden crash of her hard drive. After raising her worst fears with my solemn, “Jen, I’ve got bad news,” I then told her what happened with the omission of one essential detail: that I had last used her computer to watch an episode of Stargate on one of those less than legit websites. To make matters worse, I was pretty sure that I had left the explorer window open for at least 24 hours, plenty of time for a virus to get in and take over her system. It wasn’t until the next day, as I sat next to Jen, who was listening to the chunk-chunk-chunk of her deceased drive that my confessional nature brought out the other half of the story. Funny how any delay in admitting fault can secure without a doubt your guilt in the matter. In desperate self-defense, I argued that hard drives are hardware and there is no way that a virus could cause it to make that pathetic clanking noise. As it so happened, Jen’s co-workers further got me off the hook by completely denying that my recklessness could have had anything at all to do with it – though this may have been out of male solidarity, and if so, it proves the adamantine strength of the bond since it was with men I have never even met. Cutting to the chase, my sole purpose for writing this post is simply to announce to the world: I have been wrongfully accused and am aghast that I was ever doubted!