|Azure Jane Lunatic (Azz - bolt of blue - infovore) (azurelunatic) wrote,|
@ 2013-02-13 10:05 pm UTC
|Entry tags:||darkside, workplace: virtual hammer|
I'd thought it was just going to be the unhandled item thing (Chrome does it, Firefox does it, and neither helpdesk nor I approves of IE) but the helpdesk guy showed up with two other guys, one of whose names I recognized (because he had one of my other tickets) and one of whose I didn't (who turned out to have a third ticket of mine).
I couldn't duplicate the unhandled item thing (I wasn't expecting to), and the mass-tagging display thing didn't display as I was expecting it to. "Maybe it's because we're here," one of the guys said, and oh god, these. things. happen. yes. aaagh.
The keyboard navigation thing did actually manifest as it was supposed to -- and the helpdesk guy said the dreaded words. "How long has it been since you cleared your cache?"
Cache cleared, I reloaded the page and bipped back in, went down my stack, and tried moving some things (which needed moving). The next one to load behaved as expected. I went down some more, tried again. "Well!" I said.
"I'll resolve that one, then," the relevant guy said, and they three headed off, at the end of what was doubtless a long day for them.
About five minutes after the resolve notice hit my inbox, after I had jumped down near the tail end of my queue and was then working my way back up, I started down again.
I moved a message.
"WHAT THE FUUUUUCK," I didn't scream aloud. The item that I had just left popped back into view. "I CLEARED MY GODDAMN CACHE," I also didn't scream.
Muttering imprecations, I cleared my cache again, and started down the queue. All behaving as normal. I went back up it a bit, doing things. I started going down. I moved a message. AND THERE IT WAS AGAIN.
I cleared my cache. I started going up. Then I went down. AND LO AND BEHOLD.
I tried a few more times for luck.
I re-opened the ticket, advising that the crucial step to reproduce on a clean cache was to go up before going down, and further confirmed that it was merely to refresh the tab with the browser refresh button to stop the badness, no cache clearing needed.
I stomped back in to my Overlady's office in grim triumph. "The secret," I said to her bewildered look, "is that you have to go up, before it will fail to go down."
"Somewhere out there," she replied, "a snake oil salesman is sitting up straight and thinking, 'That is the title of my next self-help book.'"
The Animaniacs' Pinky and the Brain has the "Are You Pondering what I'm Pondering?" sequence. Pinky's response generally makes no god-damned sense at all. One episode, you actually get to see Pinky's thought sequence, which is incredibly fast and vaguely random, and ... actually sort of like the inside of my own head.
"But is there such a thing as snake butter," I asked.
"I wonder where the term 'snake oil' comes from, anyway," mused my Overlady, pulling up Wikipedia.
"You can milk snakes," I mused. "And you could probably try to churn it. But you would not want to eat that butter."
My Overlady, at this point, violated one of her cardinal rules, which is: Don't Google That Shit At Work, and pulled up not one, but two, search engines in search of the phrase.
We wound up with a bunch of hits on mushrooms (which made sense after other things were explained, later) and a piece of enigmatic chopping machinery with dodgy translation* attached to it.
At this point, the fact that we had just in all seriousness googled "snake butter" wondering if anyone was either turning dead snakes into a paste somehow or milking snakes and attempting to churn the venom, started to catch up with us, and I started laughing like a loon.
This meant that it was time to go the hell home.
Upon arriving home, I called my BFF, as it is the customary night for such things. Between one thing and the other, my Overlady's rule about not googling random things at work (similar to her "If the answer to any question starts with 'Well, I ran into this thing on the internet...', then that question probably does not need to be answered at work" rule) came up. So did various innuendo-laden music, and Yoda, and Sesame Street.
"That reminds me," I said thoughtfully. "There exists a video on YouTube..."
"The end of that sentence is rarely anything good," my BFF observed.
Just so. Googling random things at work. "Well, I ran into this thing on the internet..." and "There exists a video on YouTube" -- all things likely to result in trouble.
At any rate, my BFF has now been introduced to that bleeped video of the Count singing about his hobby.
And life is good.
* The description "high speed snake butter" would perhaps have been more completely rendered "high speed [fruit and vegetable] chopper" -- and given that shiitake mushrooms are apparently also known as "snake butter", all now makes perfect sense.