So I recently invested in Photoshop. Because of my job, I managed to land a pretty good deal, which got me the fancy-ass version with all the bells and whistles. We’re not talking the lazy cousin here; we’re talking the full child prodigy. This was an interesting purchase on my part for two reasons. One, I am creatively stupid. Yes I can appreciate something beautiful and fancy, and I understand the whole “less is more” concept, but I’m shit when it comes to creating that myself. The other reason; I am quite possibly one of the most impatient people in the world. Combine that with my anal retentiveness and really, it’s an epic fucking shit storm just waiting to happen.
But let’s start with the buying process.
Now I like to think of myself as being fairly tech savvy, I know my way around the web, I blog, I format and upload books. I single handedly worked out how to download stuff on my computer and stream it to my TV via my Playstation, long before Apple TV cornered the market on that one – don’t think I didn’t notice Apple. I also work in a professional industry, I’m degree educated and like to think I’m pretty smart. So, with this in mind, I was super excited to make my online purchase, which I did pretty successfully I thought, given I was several wines in by the time I made this decision. Actually in hindsight, that’s also quite possibly why I thought buying Photoshop was a good idea in the first place. Fuck knows the creative ideas that flow when alcohol is involved. Anyway, I digress. I made my purchase and then stood by for the email with instructions on how to install it. Well, didn’t this turn into a monumental fucking pain in my ass.
First up, because I bought it via my job, I had to verify with Adobe that I was in fact currently in that job. No problem, they sent me the link and said to follow the instructions on how to send your job proof in. I click on the link, get taken to the Adobe site and can’t find the fucking spot where I upload my details and job proof. Now, I should probably point out at this time that I don’t do well with instruction manuals. In fact I never read them. This not only drives Hubs A insane (he’s a techno-nerd), but also means it’s invariably an endless stream of “fucks”, and “fucking shit fucks”, coming from my mouth until I eventually work it out. Or more realistically, get Hubs A to sort it out. Anyway, at this point, I can’t find the fucking upload button, but what I do notice however, is the big flashing INSTALL HERE button, asking me to download my product.
Fuck it, let’s just do that instead shall we.
So I do, and surprise, surprise, the world doesn’t explode, and instead I get taken to the serial number details. Knowing that the peeps I bought the product from had sent me some long-ass number, I figured (because basically I didn’t read their instructions either) this was my serial number, so I type it in.
What the fucking fuck? It’s too short…as in there are four fucking numbers missing. Fucking hell. So I send them an email, pretty much asking, “What the fuck, where are my fucking numbers?” Two seconds later I haven’t got a reply so I pick up the phone. No-fucking-help on the other end clearly has no idea and gives me Adobe’s helpline instead. For fuck’s sake. So I call Adobe…and this is what the automated-no-fucking-help-voice says to me;
Hello and welcome to Adobe technical support. We blah blah blah …Please press 1 for help with blah blah blah or press 2 for help with blah blah blah. Please note, that we don’t solve these problems; blah blah, how to solve your fucking serial number issues, blah blah, over the phone and require you to email us with your details.
FUCKING HELL.
It’s at this point that I slam the phone down and decide I need a drink. Owing to the fact that it’s only ten o’clock in the morning, I’m at work and I’m still a little hungover from the night before, it has to be coffee. Now during my coffee break, I finally receive an email from the peeps who sold me the Photoshop with the fucked up serial number. That went something like this:
Dear PM1,
Thank you for your email. Blah, blah, blah…
The number we sent you is not the serial number. You will need to apply for your serial number by verifying your job via the link we sent you.
Blah blah blah
Signed, No-fucking-help-either.
Oh my fucking god…what the fuck is happening here. Why can’t these fucking fuckers just give me the fucking serial number.
Needless to say at this point, I was about ready to say fuck it and return the fucking thing, figuring this was a sign that yes, I was in fact creatively stupid and didn’t deserve to own this fancy ass product. Then I took a deep breath, calmed the fuck down and actually read through the instructions. And what do you know, there, buried in a pile of fucking instructions, was the fucking link. After that, it went something like this: details uploaded, serial number received, product installed, ready to use.
Now it was time to let the fun begin. Of course at this stage I did what any normal person would do and I opened the product, ignored the dumbass instructions, and starting playing with a photo. This was the result.
Pretty good huh? I would have liked to have given him glasses but I couldn’t work out how to change the fucking brush from black to white 🙂
PM1
