Geek Charming Read Online Free Page A

problem, but if that doesn’t fix it that’s when I call Microsoft or Mac’s help line. To my credit, it’s not like I pretended to know a lot during my interview, but Raymond, my boss (a budding filmmaker himself), said that I was the only person he had ever met who knew the little-known fact that Quentin collected board games that were based on old TV shows such as The Dukes of Hazzard and I Dream of Jeannie . How exactly that came up in conversation I don’t remember, but I do know that it got me the job.
    “I assume you’re aware that Spike Jonze started out in documentaries before he did Being John Malkovich and Adaptation, Agent Rosen?” Raymond asked that afternoon as he tinkered with a laptop that had an “I Love My Spoiled Rotten Cat” sticker on the front. The store was relatively empty, even though we were running one of our Just-Because-It’s-Friday-Get- 60-Percent-Off sales. We’re the white-trash cousin to Best Buy and Circuit City. We don’t carry any of the fancy Japanese name-brand electronics like Sony or Toshiba—most of our stuff comes from Kuala Lumpur or Pakistan, and from the number of customer complaints we receive, it’s built to last for approximately six weeks.
    “Actually, it was music videos,” I said, tapping my foot on the counter in time to the Muzak version of Michael Jackson’s “Thriller.” “Hey, seeing that it’s so dead, can I take off my tie?” I was allowed to wear my Geek Gang T-shirt when I was on the road doing house calls, but per Corporate, I had to wear a white oxford and clip-on tie when I worked in the store.
    “No you may not, Agent Rosen,” Raymond replied as he yanked my hand away from my neck. “When you’re on the clock, that stays on your neck.” He pushed my feet off the counter so hard I almost fell off my chair. “Feet on the floor. And it wasn’t music videos—it was documentaries.”
    I sighed as I readjusted the tie. Raymond always thought he was right. “Nope—I’m pretty sure it was music videos, Raymond.”
    He looked around to make sure no one had heard me even though the only people in the department are an elderly couple who, from the way they were yelling at each other, seemed to be wearing hearing aids. “When we’re at work, it’s Agent Strauss, Agent Rosen,” he whispered. After having worked with him for a few months, I was starting to understand why Raymond didn’t have all that many friends. And people called me a geek?
    I went to the Geek Gang computer and Googled Spike Jonze, clicking open one of the articles that came up. I pointed to it. “See?” I said.
    Raymond looked around to make sure no one was looking, since this was a non-company-related Google. Once he was sure the coast was clear, he began to study it like it was some top-secret government document, stroking his pimply chin. “I stand corrected, Agent Rosen. It seems that you are correct,” he said, closing out the Spike Jonze window. “At any rate, I agree that you do in fact have a real chance here to expose the seamy underbelly of the world of popularity. Perhaps when you’re done, you could try to get it into Sundance or one of the other festivals. You could pitch it as ‘ Lord of the Flies: Beverly Hills-Style.’”
    “That’s exactly what I was thinking!” I said excitedly. Raymond may have been a nightmare boss, but he was a real visionary when it came to film stuff. In fact, he was a USC film school grad himself. Some people might think that the fact that he’s making fifteen dollars an hour as manager of the Geek Gang and not off making millions of dollars a year directing films might not be a good sign, but that’s just because he’s spent the last four years writing a horror-slash-action film called Send in the Killer Clowns that he likes to pitch as “ Die Hard at a circus” and he doesn’t want to try to sell it until he does another rewrite.
    “Tell me more about this girl. What’s her name—Delilah?”
    “Dylan,” I