I admit it, I dallied. I bought a 250gb portable drive – I rationalized it. It was smaller than this one. I only needed it for when I went out. I’d always come home to my faithful Buffalo. Emboldened by this success, I became quite the rake. First came a pair of identical 500gb Seagate twins, then their younger cousin, a 500gb portable. No matter how much I had, my wanton lust for storage would not be quenched. I became irresponsible, and was known to have immodest flings. I once bought quite a tart of a 1tb disk. I spent the day with her, then returned her to the shop in the morning.
Meanwhile, the Buffalo faithfully put up with it. And then, she started exhibiting some disturbing? inconsistencies. I would plug her in, dutifully waiting for the icon to appear on my desktop. I’d wait, and wait, and wait. I sometimes waited for hours or days, peering at my desktop with slavish attention, groveling for access to my miserable data. She was showing me who was really in control here, and exerting its power. I wanted to leave, but it wouldn’t let me. Every time I thought about it, I’d remember all the good times we had – and more importantly, my data, which it jealously guarded.
The end came unexpectedly for her, though I planned it long in advance. I spent a full two weeks sweet-talking. I put her back in a prominent position on my desk, letting the other disks know who was my favorite. We wined and dined, and I showered her with chocolate and roses. One evening, after a particularly romantic night out at Ruth’s Chris, I politely asked for access to my files. And she complied – opened right up.
I rushed in and plundered every miserable byte, leaving her magnetic surfaces a desolate, empty expanse.
Things haven’t been the same between us. They never can be. Despite all our time together, good and bad, it’s time to set her free. I hope you treat each other better than we did.
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