The Grinding Noise of Doom

I've taken so many trips back and forth on the Chinatown bus that I have a pretty solid routine. I know when to hold my breath, what seats to avoid and how to shake off a weird person who is eying the spot next to me.

I also know when to pull out my computer, slide in a DVD and let the world around me drift away.

At least I used to. Last night something totally horrible happened. The disk drive on my laptop went out. Now when I put in a disk, instead of hearing the twirling noise that indicates my movie is about to begin, all I get are a few weird grinding sounds. Then the thing spits out my rejected flick.

I've spent a few hours trying to coax it back to life, but it's useless. It's broken and I'm now doomed. Doomed to sit on the bus, smelling the person eating the pungent Chinese food, listening to the guy loudly chatting on his cell, waiting for the nearly three hour drive to come to an end. I have to endure all of this when I could be finding out how the Mad Men will try to win the American Airlines account or how Dexter will beat the rap.

Doomed.

Or I guess I could haul around the portable DVD player I own until I figure out how to get my laptop repaired. Either way, I'm not happy.