What can I say…

… about Alfredo? Especially since I know he’s going to be reading this. Seventeen years old, lean, dark, wears the uniform – old torn jeans, shapeless jogging suit top and baseball cap with the Arsenal insignia, though he says he really supports Aldershot, poor devil. He talks in rapid bursts that I have to make him replay so I can understand them. He makes me feel like a pensioner.

I can design and write software in two major and several minor computer languages. I do assembler, which you don’t see much these days. I do web sites. I have a thorough knowledge of Unix, Windows, and, for my sins, VAX VMS, and, before my misdemeanours, was always in demand for my skills. Yet Alfredo, self-taught, in one afternoon, has shown me half a dozen things about my own subject that I never knew. And he’s so quick. And the questions! They never stop. Five minutes with the registry and the services and my laptop has never run so fast.

The only thing is … here he is, in lovely weather, in a foreign country, and he spends all his time in a darkened room with my laptop. He can’t half drink, though. He’s cleaned all the beer out of my fridge already.

Comments are closed.