The Day My ASIC Arrived
by: littlebit

Quaking with near-unrestrained excitement, I clumsily fumbled with the task of opening the standard carboard postal box that had ended up on my doorstep. A box-cutter was employed, and while there was blood spilt in my greed-fueled anxiety to unbox and look upon my prize, to my credit I did not free myself of any digits.

Red smeared the styrofoam inserts used to keep the machine steady and well-insulated from damage during transit as I hastily tore them from either side. With ever-heightening ecstasy, I gazed down at the hard-angled metal machine I had looked forward to owning for so, so many a fortnight.

I was nearly too intoxicated with joy to get everything hooked up properly, but once I did, I sat back in my office chair and admired my handiwork. Smugly, I flipped a switch and the ASIC groaned to life, a whir of fans and various electrical hissing coming from somewhere else in my house. Nothing mattered anymore at that point. Nothing except mining.

Within minutes, my almost spiritually orgasmic state had come down as I realised there was a problem. An indicator was beeping, and a diagnostic was run at once. With bated breath, I waited until the horrible realisation dawned on me...

Without proper burn-in time, the chips had all experienced failure mere moments out of the box.

My dreams were crushed, my investment worthless - I had mortgaged my home for this, I had gone without giving my children gifts for Christmas in order to make this ASIC purchase happen. Would the vendor honour any sort of repair agreement? I was doubtful, and having experienced such an emotional high only to be brought down to rock bottom of despair so quickly, I did the only other thing I could think to do in that moment.

I drank myself into a stupor and wandered around the alleys of my city, whereupon I was able to procure a revolver from a private businessman, operating out the boot of his Vauxhall. For a brief moment as I handed over the dirty fiat in exchange for the pistol, I envied that fellow's entrepreneurial spirit. He clearly had a corner on the market, as firearms are notoriously difficult and illegal to obtain here. It really only served to further depress me, his mere existence took the piss out of my entire life's goal. As though he was mocking me, only he didn't know it.

Back home, I trudged into the cellar, locking myself in. Among my hoard of graphics cards and my useless ASIC box, I held the gun to my temple. Impotent rage turned to tears and I broke down blubbering uncontrollably, unable to finish what I had intended as my final solution; my life insurance benefits would give my family what they needed to be able to sustain their lives without me.

My wife and kids are knocking at the door right now, pleading for me to come out. They just don't understand that if I don't go through with this, we'll all be homeless in a matter of weeks. I just... can't let it come to that.