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Havening [sic] a few problems
Dec. 15th, 2005 06:12 amhttp://chroniclesofgeorge.nanc.com/
These stories are not compatible with the following conditions:
( I'm not Bill Gates: I'm Tech Support. )
http://rinkworks.com/stupid/
That one is the home of the unforgettable line from Tech Support: "Sir, have you put any cheese or mustard in your a: drive?"
( Reading Charly )
The Rinkworks site has sentimental value for me. Darkside and I spent a happy morning reading over it together once upon a time. I sent him a link to the misadventures of George. I feel certain that the cockles of his black heart will warm upon noting that he is that much less alone. ( ... )
I often get to be the one to send out the nightly e-mails to IT about the things that the computers are doing that they oughtn't. I have taken to keeping a list on my desk, one that I call "Booths Behaving Badly". It uses all the sorts of shorthand that I use here and in my personal hardcopy journal, and very little of the formality that the workplace expects. Handing this sheet over to a co-worker so that they can crib off it for writing up the e-mail? "Joan! 'Booth 82, Naked network jack'?! I can't write that! ... 'Booth 231, wtf'?! I can't put that in either!"
I keep wanting to include all this subtle wit and not-so-subtle sarcasm when I do these nightly missives, so that IT knows that there's someone out here with a brain as well as a pulse, but since we have to run all the e-mail outbound from the department past the Shift Ops Super for editing and approval before finally sending it (gee, our department has had the best coherent/relevant e-mail in the company for some years now, wonder why) not much of that makes it through. I'm still proud of the one I slipped by when there was a spate of errors on shutdown, with an error message that went something like OLEMainWndThreadLogName could not [blah blah blah] on about half the computers in the building. The first day, I went and typed it out once and copy/pasted it for all of the booths having problems. (Havening?) The second day, I typed it out once and then wrote "Same OLE error" for all the other booths having the identical error.
This time, one of our phone goons reported a bad keyboard in booth 53. I took a look at it. Working just fine. I went back to the phone goon and asked her what was wrong with the keyboard. She told me that ctrl + alt + del wasn't working. I was incredulous, but went back to the booth, because the possibility of her lying to me was beyond the realm of the practical. I'd done the three-finger salute one-handed. I tried it with both hands, just for laughs. And wouldn't you know, no response. I quickly isolated the left control key as the problem. My writeup, as drafted: "Booth 53: keyboard out. Left ctrl key is dead. This presents an insurmountable obstacle for some of our less tech-savvy employees." Amazingly, the phrasing was approved by the Pink Shirt Guy and sent on to IT.
There are some days I just love my job.
These stories are not compatible with the following conditions:
- full mouth
- full bladder
- injured abdominal muscles
- sleeping household
- workplace that frowns on uncontrollable giggling
- failure to see the humor in sarcastic commentary on drastic errors of spelling, grammar, and clue
- weak lungs
( I'm not Bill Gates: I'm Tech Support. )
http://rinkworks.com/stupid/
That one is the home of the unforgettable line from Tech Support: "Sir, have you put any cheese or mustard in your a: drive?"
( Reading Charly )
The Rinkworks site has sentimental value for me. Darkside and I spent a happy morning reading over it together once upon a time. I sent him a link to the misadventures of George. I feel certain that the cockles of his black heart will warm upon noting that he is that much less alone. ( ... )
I often get to be the one to send out the nightly e-mails to IT about the things that the computers are doing that they oughtn't. I have taken to keeping a list on my desk, one that I call "Booths Behaving Badly". It uses all the sorts of shorthand that I use here and in my personal hardcopy journal, and very little of the formality that the workplace expects. Handing this sheet over to a co-worker so that they can crib off it for writing up the e-mail? "Joan! 'Booth 82, Naked network jack'?! I can't write that! ... 'Booth 231, wtf'?! I can't put that in either!"
I keep wanting to include all this subtle wit and not-so-subtle sarcasm when I do these nightly missives, so that IT knows that there's someone out here with a brain as well as a pulse, but since we have to run all the e-mail outbound from the department past the Shift Ops Super for editing and approval before finally sending it (gee, our department has had the best coherent/relevant e-mail in the company for some years now, wonder why) not much of that makes it through. I'm still proud of the one I slipped by when there was a spate of errors on shutdown, with an error message that went something like OLEMainWndThreadLogName could not [blah blah blah] on about half the computers in the building. The first day, I went and typed it out once and copy/pasted it for all of the booths having problems. (Havening?) The second day, I typed it out once and then wrote "Same OLE error" for all the other booths having the identical error.
This time, one of our phone goons reported a bad keyboard in booth 53. I took a look at it. Working just fine. I went back to the phone goon and asked her what was wrong with the keyboard. She told me that ctrl + alt + del wasn't working. I was incredulous, but went back to the booth, because the possibility of her lying to me was beyond the realm of the practical. I'd done the three-finger salute one-handed. I tried it with both hands, just for laughs. And wouldn't you know, no response. I quickly isolated the left control key as the problem. My writeup, as drafted: "Booth 53: keyboard out. Left ctrl key is dead. This presents an insurmountable obstacle for some of our less tech-savvy employees." Amazingly, the phrasing was approved by the Pink Shirt Guy and sent on to IT.
There are some days I just love my job.
