War of the Microchips

by John Passmore

Suddenly the microchips bit back.

You know the feeling: You have your day all planned - just a couple of little chores to do in the office and then out into the world for fun and profit.

Oh yeah? Dream on, kiddo!

I spent almost the whole day talking to helplines and playing with my SQL Server. As an added bonus, I was allowed to reboot - again and again... As the hours crawled by, the prospect of giving out my 50 cards seemed more and more remote - as for talking to six new people...

But then it occurred to me that the man on the helpline was gradually become more a part of life than my wife and children.

"You've been very helpful," I told him. Then, because I can't say anything else after that little collecio of words: "I'm always on the lookout for helpful people - they can make some good money in their spare time. Would you like to hear about it?"

And now he's looking. The next was a caller from a Bed and Breakfast website. I listened patiently, complimented her on her mann and asked: "Would you be interested in a second income alongside the one you've got already?"

I was on a roll now. After that I had someone someone trying to raise my ranking in Google - and after that someone offering me space on a website calleld Roundabout Britain. Had this stirring of the microchips alerted the cyberworld to my presence? Who cares: I was halfway to my target of talking to six new people and I hadn't even been out onto the street yet.

In fact, what with one thing and another, I never did get out onto the streets - which meant that at three O'clock, I still had 50 cards to give out: You can't stuff those down a phone. So just before the children came home, I set off for Tesco's to buy myself a new optical mouse and a car charger for the phone.

It took me half an hour to shift the cards. I'd have done some DVDs too if I hadn't forgotten them in the rush.

Still, I came away with the phone numbers for two people and on the way I called the watch battery salesman from last week. He was walking the streets of Belfast, he told me. Never mind, he wanted to know how the money works and so I told him.