A User With That Username Already Exists

Link to article: A User With That Username Already Exists.

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|text="Who would steal dare steal the username of me, the great Dorian Gray?"]]

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**A user with that username already exists.**

His eye twitched as he read the message that popped up on his screen in that garish red colour. Already exists? What did that even mean? How could his name already exist on this social media app? It was his name, and no one had the right to take it from him. The idea was as preposterous as it was unacceptable. There must be something wrong, as there always was with the technology of the 21st century.

In his mind, he saw a glimpse of that purple ape swinging in on a vine, then dancing on his desktop. How was he meant to know the blasted primate would steal his credit card information? It was meant to be a cute little assistant for his personal computer, not a bandit in disguise. He shuddered and forced the scene to the depths of his memories so he could refocus on his task.

He deleted his first attempt at writing his username and began entering his second. He tapped each letter slowly, making sure the spelling was correct. Then, to ensure it was accurate, he read it out loud a letter at a time.

D-o-r-i-a-n-G-r-a-y 

He let out a brilliant smile, the 4th of the day and one that made the housekeeper dusting a nearby vase almost fall over. Dorian didn't notice the housekeeper's stumble, nor her swift exit from the room soon after. He was far too focused on checking the spelling of his username a final time. Satisfied, he tapped the 'create account' button and watched as the screen shook, and his worst nightmare made its second appearance.

**A user with that username already exists.**

If Dorian Gray had stress wrinkles, they would've been coming out in full force at that moment. Why wouldn't the blasted app just let him have his name? He threw his phone onto the lounge cushion beside him as he leaned back and began to recall the previous night. He had been told that signing up for an account would be a simple process. He remembered being encouraged to do so by a blonde he'd flirted with. She'd shouted at him over the music, asking him what his username was. He'd told her he didn't have one, and she'd looked at him like he was an idiot.

'What do you mean you don't have one?' she'd buzzed at him.

'I don't see the need,' Dorian replied as he swirled his whiskey. 'I enjoy my conversations in person, face to face.'

If he had been an idiot to her before, he was an out of touch idiot now. 'I thought you'd be all over this stuff,'  she said. 'It's totally your thing. Like posting pictures of yourself and getting people to follow you to look at those pics. It's a lot of fun and easy to set up, too.'

He shrugged. 'Not for me, I'm afraid. As I said, I prefer more personal relationships, and I've found that screens are far too impersonal for my taste.'

She let out a mean cackle only drunks are capable of producing. 'Not for you? Aren't you the guy who broke the photo booth taking all those selfies of you smooching?'

'No.' Dorian covered his bad lie by taking a sip of his drink.

The blonde glared at him. 'Yeah, nah mate, you can't lie to me. I'd recognise that 80s hairdo anywhere. You're that guy who made all those ugly kissy faces until the machine stopped working.'

Dorian puffed up, his body filling with egotistical outrage. 'I am not ugly, and I did not break that machine. It was old and unmaintained.'

'You broke it, and you're too scared to admit it,' the blonde declared.

'I did not and am not,' he retorted.

'You did.'

'Did not.'

'Yes, you did, egoboy.' The woman made an 'L' shape on her forehead.

'Dumb blonde,' he countered.
   
The childish exchange might've continued had it not been for the blonde's friends waving her over to the dance floor. She stood up and looked down at him as one would a small child who screamed for candy in a supermarket checkout.  

'Whatever, you're missing out love. Everyone whose anyone already has an account. I guess you're not worth knowing.' 

She downed the drink he'd bought for her, then disappeared into the crowd, leaving her words behind to stab into his ego. They shouldn't have mattered to him. He was, after all, Dorian Gray. But as the night slowly marched forward and he danced, drank and fucked his way to the dawn, her words always sat with him. He couldn't escape them. So, against his better judgement, he decided to give in and download the app she'd told him about.

The drunk woman hadn't been entirely wrong, he granted her. The process had been simple until he found out his identity had been robbed from him. Now he sat there, unable to do anything to resolve the problem. He picked up his phone again and glared at it, hoping that he could will the thing to do what he wanted. While he did so, some black text briefly appeared at the top of the screen.

**Need help? Tap the question mark at the bottom right of the screen to be taken to our support chat.**

Finally, the app had done something useful for him. He tapped the question mark and was taken to a blank screen with another red message.

**In order to access our support chat, you must be logged into an account.**

The urge to launch his phone across the room grew stronger, so strong in fact that the only thing that held him back was how inconvenient it would be to get a new one. For now, Dorian Gray decided it was best to do as he was told. 

He thought for a moment, letting names slide in and out of his mind. He thinks of going abstract, maybe something like 'TheGrayCloud' or 'ThePaintedMan'. But he discards those thoughts as quickly as they appeared. For the brief time he would use this account, he wanted the world to know it was really Dorian Gray behind the screen, and not some pretender.

Then, it struck him suddenly. If he is the real Dorian Gray, then he should indeed tell every person on the app that very thing. He quickly types realdoriangray into the username box. The name, to his relief, was accepted and he was finally allowed access to the support chat. It loaded without issue, and soon enough he was taken to a very basic looking chatroom with one message in it. 

**You are number #21 in the support chat queue. A support agent will be with you shortly.**

The urge to send the phone flying returned, but he again resisted it. It couldn't take that long, could it? He doubted anyone else’s needs were as important or urgent as his, so they must be easy to fix. And so, he waited, and waited, and waited. He waited for 22 minutes and 45 seconds before finally, there was activity.

[[div style="background: #E8E8E8; width: 100%; text-align: center; border-top-width: 3px; border-right-width: 3px; border-left-width: 3px; border: solid grey; border-bottom: none;"]]
+++++ Support Chat - Open 9 am to 5 pm on Business Days
[[/div]]
[[div style="background: white; border: 3px solid grey; width: 100%; text-align: center; color: grey"]]
[[size smaller]]An agent has joined the conversation[[/size]]
[[div style="background: DodgerBlue; width: 45%; padding-left: 0.5vw; text-align: left; color: black; position: relative; left: 52%; border-radius: 0.9em; color: white"]]
Finally! I have been waiting far too long for assistance! Is this what they call customer service these days?
[[/div]]
[[div style="background: WhiteSmoke; width: 45%; padding-left: 0.5vw; text-align: left; color: black; border-radius: 0.9em; margin-left: 2%"]]
Hello, my name is Azalia, and I will be your support agent. Can you please describe the issue you are experiencing?
[[/div]]
[[div style="background: DodgerBlue; width: 45%; padding-left: 0.5vw; text-align: left; color: black; position: relative; left: 52%; border-radius: 0.9em; color: white"]]
Someone has stolen my name.
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[[div style="background: WhiteSmoke; width: 45%; padding-left: 0.5vw; padding-right: 0.5vw; text-align: left; color: black; border-radius: 0.9em; margin-left: 2%"]]
I am sorry to hear that realdoriangray. Can you please describe when you last had access to your account?
[[/div]]
[[div style="background: DodgerBlue; width: 45%; padding-left: 0.5vw; text-align: left; color: black; position: relative; left: 52%; border-radius: 0.9em; color: white"]]
Access? What are you on about? I didn't lose access to my account. Someone stole my name from me.
[[/div]]
[[div style="background: WhiteSmoke; width: 45%; padding-left: 0.5vw; padding-right: 0.5vw; text-align: left; color: black; border-radius: 0.9em; margin-left: 2%"]]
Could you please clarify, realdoriangray?
[[/div]]
[[div style="background: DodgerBlue; width: 45%; padding-left: 0.5vw; text-align: left; color: black; position: relative; left: 52%; border-radius: 0.9em; color: white"]]
I tried to make an account using my name, Dorian Gray, but when I tried my name wasn't available. It told me someone has already used my name to make their account. I want you to take my name back from the thief and give it to me.
[[/div]]
[[div style="background: WhiteSmoke; width: 45%; padding-left: 0.5vw; padding-right: 0.5vw; text-align: left; color: black; border-radius: 0.9em; margin-left: 2%"]]
I'm sorry realdoriangray, but once a username is taken it is no longer available. 
[[/div]]
[[div style="background: DodgerBlue; width: 45%; padding-left: 0.5vw; text-align: left; color: black; position: relative; left: 52%; border-radius: 0.9em; color: white"]]
But it's my name! Why can't I get my own name back? 
[[/div]]
[[div style="background: WhiteSmoke; width: 45%; padding-left: 0.5vw; padding-right: 0.5vw; text-align: left; color: black; border-radius: 0.9em; margin-left: 2%"]]
A username is a unique identifier. Unfortunately, support is unable to make changes to usernames at this time. If you would like to escalate your enquiry, you can reach out to our support email. Would you like me to provide that to you?
[[/div]]
[[div style="background: DodgerBlue; width: 45%; padding-left: 0.5vw; text-align: left; color: black; position: relative; left: 52%; border-radius: 0.9em; color: white"]]
I don't want a blasted email. I want you to do your job and give me my name back.
[[/div]]
[[div style="background: WhiteSmoke; width: 45%; padding-left: 0.5vw; padding-right: 0.5vw; text-align: left; color: black; border-radius: 0.9em; margin-left: 2%"]]
I'm sorry realdoriangray, but once a username is taken it is no longer available. 
[[/div]]
[[div style="background: DodgerBlue; width: 45%; padding-left: 0.5vw; text-align: left; color: black; position: relative; left: 52%; border-radius: 0.9em; color: white"]]
Why are you repeating the same thing? Are you an idiot? 
[[/div]]
[[div style="background: WhiteSmoke; width: 45%; padding-left: 0.5vw; padding-right: 0.5vw; text-align: left; color: black; border-radius: 0.9em; margin-left: 2%"]]
I apologise that you are frustrated, realdoriangray. But per our support chat policies, we ask that everyone interacting with our wonderful support staff remains respectful. Rest assured, we are doing everything we can to assist you.
[[/div]]
[[div style="background: DodgerBlue; width: 45%; padding-left: 0.5vw; text-align: left; color: black; position: relative; left: 52%; border-radius: 0.9em; color: white"]]
If you were doing that, I WOULD HAVE MY NAME BACK YOU DAMFOOL
[[/div]]
[[div style="background: WhiteSmoke; width: 45%; padding-left: 0.5vw; padding-right: 0.5vw; text-align: left; color: black; border-radius: 0.9em; margin-left: 2%"]]
realdoriangray, if you continue to be hostile, I am going to have to terminate this chat.
[[/div]]
[[div style="background: DodgerBlue; width: 45%; padding-left: 0.5vw; text-align: left; color: black; position: relative; left: 52%; border-radius: 0.9em; color: white"]]
Terminate this chat when you haven't even helped me? They should terminate your employment. You are truly, completely and utterly useless.
[[/div]]
[[div style="background: WhiteSmoke; width: 45%; padding-left: 0.5vw; padding-right: 0.5vw; text-align: left; color: black; border-radius: 0.9em; margin-left: 2%"]]
fuck you dude
[[/div]]
[[div style="background: DodgerBlue; width: 45%; padding-left: 0.5vw; text-align: left; color: black; position: relative; left: 52%; border-radius: 0.9em; color: white"]]
WHAT
[[/div]]
[[div style="background: WhiteSmoke; width: 45%; padding-left: 0.5vw; padding-right: 0.5vw; text-align: left; color: black; border-radius: 0.9em; margin-left: 2%"]]
go fuck yourself you pompous asshat
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[[size smaller]]An agent has left the conversation[[/size]]
[[div style="background: DodgerBlue; width: 45%; padding-left: 0.5vw; text-align: left; color: black; position: relative; left: 52%; border-radius: 0.9em; color: white"]]
Hello
[[/div]]
[[div style="background: DodgerBlue; width: 45%; padding-left: 0.5vw; text-align: left; color: black; position: relative; left: 52%; border-radius: 0.9em; color: white"]]
HELLO?
[[/div]]
[[div style="background: DodgerBlue; width: 45%; padding-left: 0.5vw; text-align: left; color: black; position: relative; left: 52%; border-radius: 0.9em; color: white"]]
ARE YOU KIDDING ME?
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

The phone, once held tightly in Dorian's hands, now flew across the hotel room towards a large mirror. The golden frame and the ornate and complex patterns adorning it made the mirror appear equal parts expensive and alluring. Perhaps the phone knew that breaking something so beautiful would be a tragedy, because in the final seconds before it hit the mirror, it rotated slightly. The device hit the frame at just the right angle to bounce off of it, leaving behind no sign of the impact. 

Instead, its trajectory changed, and it began heading straight back to where it came from. Dorian, for his part, has been too busy having a tantrum to notice the incoming projectile until it hit him in the temple.

'Ow! What the devil was that?' Dorian rubbed where the phone had slammed into his head and squinted angrily as the device tumbled to the floor. There would be no injury from this embarrassment, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt like hell. He stood, still muttering swear words so old and forgotten that only he knew they were rude at all, and began his long journey to the hotel's rooftop bar. 

------

Sixteen hours later, Dorian Gray had finally been able to get a new phone after the last one had mysteriously found itself at the bottom of a trash can. He had again downloaded the app, having decided to give in rather than continue the fruitless fight. It's not that he couldn't afford a new phone to throw away in childish frustration. He had enough money that he could buy the company that made them. But Dorian had learned in his many years that some things were best left unopposed. The username realdoriangray would work well enough for this app. For the others he would get his name, he was quite sure. After all, what were the chances his name would be taken everywhere?

The answer to this question would come to Dorian 10 minutes later, when on the next social media app he downloaded, he was met by an all too familiar message.

**A user with that username already exists.**

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