Joining the technological age, starring BATM

Scene: Large, noisy appliance store, with sale signs plastered to every available surface and 37 different stereos playing different songs - from the soft-porn genre that is Rihanna and Britney.

Enter stage left, AMY, heavily pregnant and resembling a puffer fish, and BRUCE, with a cell phone attached to his belt (says it all really).

Amy: Okay, so these here are the laptops.

Bruce: *wanders off to look at dryers*

Amy: *sighs heavily*

Amy: Now because all you want to do is check out golf tee times at the local club, you don't need anything flash.

Bruce: why does this keyboard have numbers up the top AND on the right?

Amy: Just because.

Bruce: So the lid on this closes by pulling it DOWN, I see.....

Amy: They all do that.

Bruce: And does this one have that maps thing you were showing me?

Amy: Google Maps? Yes.

Bruce: Does THIS one?

Amy:..........yes.

Bruce: *seeing one within his budget* I'll just get that one.

Amy: Good choice. Now you need an Internet Provider. How do you want to connect to the internet? Broadband? With a stick thing? Dial up?

Bruce: *blank look*

Amy: Well, how does your girlfriend connect to the net?

Bruce: *mimes typing on a keyboard*

Amy: Oooooookay.

Bruce: Show me how I can Google on this. What do you call it. Googling?

Amy: Well, just pottering around is really called Surfing the Net. Using Google. Which is a search engine using a browser.....*sees she lost him* Anyway let's just get this and then you can visit Telecom and sort out your internet connection.

Bruce, thinking: But I want my pony NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW!

Amy, reading his mind: It's not an instant thing...you need to get the connection sorted THEN you can Google all your golf results.

Bruce: Humph. Can you come over this weekend and show me stuff?

Amy: Sure, if I haven't, you know, GIVEN BIRTH TO YOUR GRANDCHILD BY THEN.

Bruce, thinking: always with the excuses......

Fin.