Talk techie to me

I went shopping for my new toy yesterday because by some strange quirk of fate, I found out that The Boss had put me on leave, so I left the office after running some errands. "Why are you here?" astounded colleagues asked me after almost a month of my absence. Not feeling the love, people. "You're supposed to be on leave!" Smokey told me, adding hastily "And it wasn't my fault" (Yeah right. Your virus was the Trojan Horse that let my virus in. If your virus and my virus were people, your virus was the one which disguised itself as a castle guard and let down the drawbridge so my virus, in the form of ten million angry peasants armed with flaming pitchforks and other fashionable mob accessories, could storm the castle and kill the king)

But back to toy shopping.

Tech-savvy feminists everywhere will be facepalming themselves if they hear this, but going IT shopping alone is something new to me, since I'm usually lost at sea and drag some hapless IT-savvy male in tow is save me. But since I'm going to be forking out mucho moolah for my new toy I decided to get off my ass and do some research so I knew what the hell was going on for a change. This is what happened.

I entered one shop and was considering brief, but frivolous, flirtations with various Fujitsus and didn't notice the very tall, very earnest salesperson, who has inexplicably hunched over a fan, presumably not to scare off the rarely-seen Lone Female Tech Shopper. I was gazing soulfully at the screen of a Lifebook when a throat was cleared behind me and a slightly quizzical, tentative voice said "Um... can I help you?" He probably thought I'd gotten lost looking for Zara.

"Yeah, I'm looking for a laptop," I said, tearing my gaze away from the IBM ThinkPad next to it.

"I can try and upgrade the RAM to 1 gig," he said to me, referring to the laptop I had been looking at. Instant brownie points to him. "Any particular brand?" he said.

"Actually I'm looking for something according to specs," I said, like I do this all the time. I did not miss the eyebrow-raise, so I went on. "Something in the range of 512 RAM, 60 GB hard disk, dedicated graphics card, 14-15' screen, Wi-Fi, the usual."

"For school?" he said. Damn the jeans.

"For work. And pleasure." And I strategically flashed him a very rare Slinky smile on that word, mindful of other potential free RAM upgrades. Yeah, I whore myself for tech if there's enough incentive.

"Aaah. What work is that?"

"Mainly word-processing. And some graphics and gaming." (Whooooooooo. Breathe, Slinky, breathe).

"Aaaaaah!" he said approvingly. Okay, I've got something, you just hang on. Don't go anywhere! Just stand right here, I'll bring it to you! Don't move!” Scouts' honor, he said that. Maybe he was afraid that this particular Slinky was about to return to her feminine roots and wander off to shoe shop.

So I stood there and ogled digital cameras (placed within convenient, wallet-endangering line of sight) until he popped up again after a frantic search involving a missing key. There should have been a little "Ta-dah!" when he produced the computer, which I noticed had been installed with "Medal of Honor".

"Yours?" I said, busily tapping on the keyboard.

"Er, no. A customer's."

I arched an eyebrow. He looked a little sheepish.

I played with it a little, lifted it off the table, lugged it around the shop, asked hopefully useful questions about USB ports, swappable disk bays, battery life and naturally, price, then told him I'd think about it first.

"Okay. I'll be here tomorrow!" he said as I walked out of the shop. "And nice tan!" At least I think he said tan.

It was the same everywhere I went. There would the hesitant, faintly-disbelieving approach, the doubtful "Can I help you (sub-vocal: are you lost?)?", then the bemused expression as you rattle off the specs, then the sudden enthusiasm which fires up in their eyes. Then if you start talking about PCMCIA cards and Centrino processors, and they start breathing harder, and then if you start talking about software and rotational speeds and they start calculating how many upgrades they'll need to throw in before you give them your number. If you murmur the words "Dungeon Siege", "Warcraft" and graphics (on hindsight a potential translation into 'porn'), they start getting weak at the knees. And if you mention RAM, hard drives, slots, hell, maybe they'll give you the damn thing free. Maybe it's because so few women go tech shopping unaccompanied, and not waffle about "Uhh...something pretty? And not heavy?" but I swear to god, they lap it up. Just don't develop a mental stutter and confuse Wi-Fi with Firewire, like I did at one point. All tech-geek credibility is lost, and they feel betrayed.

The Other Cat once wrote about washing her Precious as a new way to meet men. I think tech shopping beats it hands down.

On a less frivolous note, what should I get?

* The Toshiba Satellite with Intel Centrino 740 Processor (1.73GHz), 512 RAM, 60 GB HD, 128 MB ATI Radeon 128 MB graphics card with XP Home, Firewire, Wi-Fi, LAN antenna DVD/CD reader/writer, Harmon Kardon speakers and 1 year international warranty and a peacock blue chassis; or

* The Acer Aspire 1692WLMi with Intel Centrino 740 Processor (1.73GHz), 512 MB RAM, 80 GB HD, ATI Radeon X700 256 MB graphics card with Firewire, Wi-Fi, Lan, Bluetooth, XP Home + carrying case + 1 year international warranty?

I'm told Toshiba is far more reliable, and has better tech support for where I'm going. It's also sexier, and has a better screen. But the Acer is about $200 cheaper, comes with a carrying case, and has a better 'feel' to the keyboard. I might be able to get upgrades on both their RAM to 1 gig. I flirted briefly with the idea of a PowerBook (Mac! Sleek! Sexy!) but I can't live without gaming, so sadly, I bid Apple adieu.

All auggestions and recommendations are very much appreciated.