I was in a real fix, I thought, as I sat staring dumbfounded at the computer screen and its multitude of pop-up screens, each filthier with triple-x porn than the last. Every time, I closed out one window, it seemed three or four more popped up to prove that I was beaten. I'd been surfing online porn and sure enough had landed in a site that had infected by computer with some kind of virus or spyware I just couldn't get rid of.
Unfortunately, I was not a computer expert. I'd deleted my temporary internet files, run my anti-virus software, re-checked my firewall settings and even ran a spyware removal kit. I prayed to the great computer in the sky. Nothing worked. In a few hours, my wife and the kids would be home from a day trip to her mother's and as soon as they were home they'd want to log onto their favourite chat rooms, where they would see nothing but porn poured upon porn. It wouldn't take my wife a minute to figure out how those windows got there in the first place, and she was not one to approve of pornography. She sure didn't expect me to be surfing porn sites on her computer.
I sat scratching my head, wondering how the Hell I was going to get out of this one. When I had exhausted every option I could think of, I knew I needed help if I was to avoid severe embarrassment and humiliation–if not divorce.
There was a guy at work I knew, one of those guys like everyone knows, who had no real training but knew the workings of a computer better than the experts. His name was Cliff and we were on good enough terms that I could call him and ask him for a favour. I'd have to swallow my pride and hope he could help me without spreading the word about my predicament around the office. Even that would be better than allowing my wife to find out about this little adventure. Guys understood about porn-surfing; they might have a laugh at my expense, but they wouldn't take it far because it might be one of them getting caught next time.
I made the decision, grabbed the phone book and dialled Cliff's number. He picked up on the second ring... thank God!
"Cliff... it's me, Brian."
"Hey."
"Look, I'm having a little computer problem... and it's kind of embarrassing, but it's an emergency. Do you have a minute?"
"Sure. I'll be right over."
No hesitation at all, just a knowing answer that sounded like it was said through a smile. I blushed a little, trying to tell myself that it would be okay. Cliff would figure it out and put everything back to rights. I gave him the address of the house and he was pulling up in front of the house barely ten minutes later.
"So let me guess," he said. "Triple-x pop-up problem?"
I felt my ears go red with shame. "Uh, yeah," I said, probably a little too quickly. "Yeah, I don't know how that stuff gets in there, but I definitely want it gone before the kids get back and see that filth–"
"And the wife," Cliff said with a laugh. "I'll bet you don't want her to see what sort of sites you've been visiting on the family computer, eh?"
"Uh, yeah..."
He sat down in front of the computer and clicked a few windows closed, whistling between his teeth. "Nasty stuff, Brian. You've got some interesting taste."
I was getting impatient. It was noon, and I expected the wife and kids home in just a few short hours. "Can you do anything, Cliff?"
"Well," he said, "It's like this, Brian. I'm pretty sure I can help you..."
I sighed out loud with relief. I should have waited to hear the rest of what he had to say.
"Yeah, I can help you, but I am going to need you to help me too."