My second worst fear came true last week; a virus attacked my computer. (If a virus that turned my files into images of and songs by David Hasselhoff attacked my computer, my worst fear would’ve come true.)

I have a very limited amount of computer repair knowledge. (If it can’t be fixed with a hammer I’m not your guy.)

Luckily, my girlfriend’s brother- Kilton, is a computer programmer. I explained my situation to him and he said it wouldn’t be a problem to vanquish the virus, and that he could walk me through it over the phone. However, he said I will need some software and that he would put it on a CD for me; the only problem we had was figuring out a way to exchange the CD.

Kilton and I work relatively close to each other in Chicago. He works next to Chicago’s Union Station, and I pass through there on my way to and fro work every day. However, due to different schedules, we couldn’t figure out a good time to meet. Therefore, we decided on the simplest solution, create a drop point where Kilton would leave the CD to be picked up by me later on in the day.

Kilton drew up the plan, which went as follows. Before leaving work, Kilton would bring the CD to a franchised coffee shop in Union Station. (For confidentiality’s sake, let’s call the coffee shop “Moose Mocha;” that could represent any large coffee franchise really…). Once inside, he would tape the CD case to the bottom of the garbage can in the men’s restroom. Then, on my way home from work, I would stop into the coffee shop and pick up the CD.

As the time to execute the plan neared, I felt the adrenaline building up inside me. While riding the bus I take to get to Union Station, I constantly replayed the plan in my head, and thought of anything that may thwart me. Before I knew it, the bus came to a stop and the façade of the Moose Mocha in Union Station was staring me dead in the eye. It was go time.

I entered the complex through the front and took notice of my surroundings. I saw that there was only one other patron in the shop. This was good because if I had to kill everyone in the building to cover my exit, casualties would be minimal.

I approached the counter and purchased a bottle of orange juice. I figured that if I bought something I would look less suspicious. I decided on orange juice because it was and pre-made, whereas any other coffee drink would have to mocha’d or frap-a-fied.

After paying for my orange juice, I asked the employee where the bathroom was. When I tell this story, many people hear this part and believe it was a folly because the clerk then knows where I’m going and where to find me. However, I did this so the man specifically knows I intend to go to the bathroom, and I would have to be in there a while before he got suspicious. (Of course, I’m assuming he’s operating under the common belief that people use the bathroom to relieve themselves rather than pick up a disc like a secret agent.)

I entered the drop location, confirmed no one else was in the bathroom and immediately locked the door. Keeping my head constantly tilted towards the floor in order to avoid view of the cameras, I knelt down and reached under the cylindrical garbage can, felt the CD case, and ripped the tape off of it.

Now that I had the package, I placed it in my bag, exited the bathroom and walked straight out the back door of the Moose Mocha, disappearing amongst the mass of commuters heading home.

To confirm receipt of the package I text messaged my contact on the other end with the code, “The eagle is in the nest. Talk to you at 2100.”

He then acknowledged that the package had been successfully passed off with his reply, “Roger that, blue squirrel.”

It was only later that evening we discovered we didn’t need the CD at all, but Kilton and I didn’t get discouraged since we knew this was good practice for future computer virus fighting espionage across the city of Chicago.