[Ping Me]

The call came in like it always does. An obnoxious triple-beep that set my nerves on fire, burning with the tinge of a hundred hangovers. I was pissed. It wouldn't be the first time that some clueless jockey at the help desk tried to saddle me with a useless assignment.

I decided at that moment to have some fun.

"Uh -- Yeah" I breathed into the 2-Way, hoping some large steel beam was chopping my digitally encoded voice to hell. Funny thing about digital phones, it always sounds like you're being torn to shreds by some rabid binary banshee when you hit a low pocket in the coverage. If it is loud enough, it sounds like you're drowning in some kind of sadistic blender. Analog always recovered more gracefully, but then again -- we all know the likelyhood of regressing back to older equipment.

"We've got a problem -- this lady can't log into her machine..." the jockey babbles, trying to infuse his voice with the right balance of authority and knowledge, not knowing that the undertow of helpless panic in his voice is already making me crack a knowing evil smile.

"Uh okay -- what is wrong?" I snap back, knowing full well that this particular jockey is usually severely lacking in his method of gathering details. Information to this guy is like a lost wallet in a city cab. You know for damn sure you'll never see it again, so you stop trying after a while.

"Well, she didn't want to tell me what kind of machine she was working on -- so I just got what I could before she hung up." He says, the panic sound gaining ground as he finishes speaking.

I smile, take a small breath in and say calmly -- "Well, I'd be glad to go there, as soon as you can find out what kind of computer she has - and a brief description of the problem." and almost before he can say anything I add, "I appreciate it -- thanks!" and cut transmission. God, I'm an evil bastard.

I can see it now. The Help Desk jockey, beset with the sudden task of actually doing his job, is making phone calls to the user with inane questions that he could have smoothly asked earlier, if he had more intelligence to do so. Oh well, such is the price of being an idiot.

Smiling, I return to my pastime -- namely the "Invisible Man" routine. It is amazing what you can accomplish with a good 2-way phone and a nice place to read. I don't do this often, but sometimes you have to make everyone think you are so damn busy -- that you literally can't be seen anywhere. Works like a charm. Aw damn. My legs are falling asleep. Looks like I'll have to do a little walking around. Maybe a few users can snap me out of this. I sure love it when they try.......

I swiped my access card, and settled into my well-worn tech chair. Just a small fact, sitting down to a tech is about as important as breathing,eating,making love and a few other activities -- so we're very particular. I was of course sitting in one of the best chairs, so I was really not inclined to leave it.

So much for my plan -- Mr. Hyper, aka my supervisor came in for a bit of a bounce. "Hey man! How are ya!" he chattered, barely able to contain his fidgeting. I smiled, decided to make this conversation just a little extra slow and torturous. I began with "Well, thanks for asking man -- you know I was working on something...uh...what was it....." I didn't even have time to finish my sentence when Mr. Hyper bounced out of the office -- for a visit to the bathroom or another bungie-meeting (where everyone is expected to drop at a moments notice and atttend). Oh well -- I was now able to amuse myself. And hey -- I forgot that my phone was off!! Better turn it on -- not because of the job -- I just love to bait them into thinking I'll actually show up to solve their whining problems.

Sure enough, the gods of the ether spread the signal that my phone is indeed in a rare state of operation, namely it is actually on for more than ten seconds -- the first call comes in.

"Uh...we've got a user that can't clear a paper jam in the printer." the helpdesk goon intones. Oooh -- can't refuse that one. "SO.." I say "where would this be..." The goon tells me, and I promptly wander off in the direction of the LAN closet. There is a good deal of connectivity that most users don't bother themselves with, and when I find a few willing to show their ignorance -- my god, I can't help it!! DISCONNECT baby!!! I run over (yes, I'm that excited) and I pull out all the connections to the floor the user is on....then, in a fit of inspiration, I start to weave some elaborate macrame using the CAT5 cables. Goddamn -- it's friggin beautiful. The network engineer is gonna have a heart attack. Oh well -- no camera, no proof -- as I always say...

After admiring my handiwork, i stroll up to the printer. A bewildered user is there, trying to find out if the paper indeed can go back the way it comes out. I walk up, cast a large shadow, and wait for the user to come to his senses. He does -- and backs off blubbering "It was working a while ago -- I don't know where this is coming from, I have an important document to print -- you HAVE to fix this QUICKLY!!"..... Oooooh man -- big mistake, telling me what to do. He almost senses his mistake, but by that time, my leatherman is out and I'm disassembling the chassis, dropping small sheet-metal screws on the floor "Whoops" I say -- smiling for effect.

It works -- he almost gives up right away... So, I just slap it together, take one of my trademark "ORANGE GLOW STICKER FROM HELL" and slap it on the device. Then I write in my best pig latin "Machine Not Worky" in the "Date Repaired" space I write "Maybe" I stand back, looking smug. The user, peeking over his cubicle wall almost asks me a question, but I glower at him and then fake calling in for parts. I actually call the weather, so the part he's not hearing is "72 degrees cooling down to 50 at night" and to which I'm saying "Hell ya, get that TonerCart 1EDGH44 as soon as ya can -- thanks baby." I slap the 2-way wonder uberphone back into my holster and walk off.

I'm going down a blindingly lit hallway with drab office art when I see my Boss's boss....aaah -- time to butter the corn. I say "Hey -- my boss wanted you for a one-on-one session, so I thought I would just pass it along." I smile, and she smiles -- eating it up. Let me explain. Most managers and supervisors would rather be eating the toe-clippings of insane prisoners than be in a "session" with her. Something about corporate buzzwords or something...I wouldn't know -- I delete any invites that I get.

Oooh -- I'm feeling tired, it being 10:30am and all -- time to turn off the phone and read some more....hey -- maybe I could string a hammock out of the CAT5 cables left over from this mornings "redensification"....I get my evil smile going again, and walk slowly back to the LAN closet. The wicked never get much rest, do they?

"Beeep...beeep...beep!!" ...I opened my eyes slowly, letting my rage at being awakened by my damn phone (crap, didn't I turn it off?) surge through my veins. Swinging off my CAT5 hammock in the LAN closet, I put my workboots on, and checked the phone display. "DICKHEAD" -- aaah.....my boss's boss - boss....I have a love-hate relationship with my 2-way phone, on one hand, I really love how I can reprogram everyone's name to something more suiting, like "BLOWHARD" or "LUUUSER", on the other -- it tends to wake me up at the most inconvenient times.

No matter -- I queued up about a hundred beeps and sent 'em off back at the recipient. After about 5 minutes, after all the beeps had finally stopped sounding on the other end, "Dickhead" started talking.

"DId you get that email I sent you last week? I really would like to discuss your plans here, the future at this corporation -- that kind of thing..."

I smelled a rat -- oh crap, I could kick myself - my boss must've realized that the "one-on-one" I scheduled for him in the hallway had originated from me.....dammit. Alrighty -- I thought to myself, I can play THIS game. I looked around for my toolbelt, slapped it on and checked the numerous velcro pockets around its perimeter.

In my wanderings among the various LAN closets and Heating/Cooling parts of the building I've accumulated some rather wicked hardware. Today's choice was a solid quarter-sized roll of hi-density magnets. I heard they were a sample from some superconducting lab somewhere -- or at least that was what the shipping label said when I absconded with the whole box.

I tucked one magnet in each pocket, and for good measure I strapped some to my inner forearm, "Taxi Driver" style. Alllllllrighty then...I'm READY.

I take the executive elevator, making sure to "accidentally" rake my shoelace clips across the imported wood paneling. When I exit on my floor, it looks like I won a fight with a pack of wolves. Once more -- you guessed it, "No camera, no proof!!"

I stroll into my boss's boss - boss, etc.... office, and take a chair across the expanse of fake-wood formica that he calls a desk. Since "Dickhead" is on the phone, I take a few magnets off from my forearm stash and start to surreptitously slide a few under his desktop computer. I'm in the middle of shaking three more "coin" magnets into my palm when he ends his phone call.

"Well then, Mr........uh...oh well, that isn't important -- I just wanted to get you in here to see how you like things so far." He bugged his eyes, as if he was trying to make me care via telepathy. Didn't work -- like I have to tell you that. I shifted in my chair and pulled down an imaginary menu of responses, terminator style...hmm...here we go -- something full of crap he'll believe. :"Well, I really have enjoyed the opportunities this job has provided so far..." I said, while thinking "Yeah, all the Luuuuusers that I get to torture daily...."

He smiled, believing every word. Now here comes the interesting part. "We are satisfied with your service so far, but I've heard of some isolated complaints by the users."  He smiled again, like it would take me off guard. Sorry -- the magnets I put under his computer were already worming their fields into his hard drive. Just to test my theory, I asked -- "Well, I'm certainly suprised (yeah right), who are these people -- what did they say?"

Small break here -- let me explain something. In most executives minds, if it isn't on hardcopy or better yet -- in a computer, then the problem probably doesn't merit any attention, or better yet - doesn't exist.

"Dickhead" swivels over to his keyboard, and starts tapping the keys like an epileptic. "I think I can pull up the records here from the tickets that were entered in the database...one moment."

Heh, I was thinking, you'll need more than a moment to undo the damage those five magnets under your hard drive are doing. But I kept a straight face while he vainly tried to coax the answer out of his failing hard drive. "Uh.....seems like we have a problem..." He says, tapping ALL the keys on the keyboard. It's funny when a user gets into trouble, they just freak out -  hey, ONE of these keys have to solve my problem....heh...I let him squirm some more, then I lean over and say "Perhaps I can help?" I put on my most charming/evil smile.

"Oh sure, thanks -- I don't know what's happening here...it was working earlier..." Dickhead says, furrowing his brow. Aaah, the mantra of the Luuuuuuuser User. I walk behind the desk and start jiggling cords, while at the same time "mining" his whole computing area with magnets. Then, for the final touch, I push him aside and start messing with the computer directly. After tapping some keys - and depositing some more magnets while Dickhead isn't looking, I just throw up my hands and say "Look like it will have to be reloaded.."

He gets real pale. You see -- a "reload" is a complete format and reinstall of the Operating System. He knows he's screwed. I say "I'll put in a service ticket for that -- maybe I'll be able to do it personally, but likely one of the office techs will handle it." He nods, resigned to his fate. I could've suggested a loaner -- but I'm not in this job to make OTHER people's lives easier, now am I?

"Let me know when everything is back together -- I look forward to continuing our conversation.." I say, walking out the door. Yeah right -- I MIGHT see him in like 3 months, when they finally remove all the magnets out of there. Ooooh boy.

"BEEP BEEP BEEP" -- oooh the phone is displaying "FUDDY DUDDY"....I can't WAIT to take this one....I stroll down the hallway, alternately raking either side of the walls with my lace clips.......time for more fun....