I get into my office and it's my first day - I want to make a good impression, so I empty my IN tray into the bin. Now that's what I call efficient!
I get a call from the big boss - he's been getting complaints about the Trainee Bastard Operator From Hell. I ask him to forward all the complaints to me and that it would be best to let me deal with them. I ring the operator and get so far.
It's a stinking hot day in my non-air conditioned office and I'm annoyed. The sort of annoyed that's described, mistakenly, as red hot. The correct colour choice, is, of course white.
I login to my account and there's three helpdesk mail requests, all ticking away to expiration, then escalation, then further escalation, then followup mail message, then even further escalation, then 2nd followup mail message and casual phone call, then still further escalation, then non-casual phone call, then threats, then, ultimately, and sadly, violence. But not so sadly that I won't resort to it. And they know I will too...
Because I used to be...
T H E B A S T A R D O P E R A T O R F R O M H E L L ! ! ! ...and sometimes, late at night I get these twitches. Like dead people get. (Or, as I prefer to call them, perfect computer users)
In the mornings I get them too. Like when the phone rings. And when I get email. And when people talk to me. AND when people are hogging the expresso machine to make fluffy milk. But apart from that I'm cured. A new man.
I smile at the thought and look, in reminiscence, at some reminders of my past. A couple of backup 8mm tapes with cartoons on them. The thank-you cards for my attendance at 23 seperate funerals of computer center staff. The mains plug with the thinwire ethernet plug at the end. I didn't ever get round to trying that one either, so I don't even know what it would've done.
That's it alright. I am *absolutely*, *stinking*, *UNCONTROLLABLY* bored. I get up and slip a fingerprint free magnet on top of the reed switch that the Boss had installed in my display cabinet while I was on holiday, then pry the glass door open with a screwdriver. As far as I can figure, the switch is supposed to ring an alarm if the door is opened.
If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times - "Inexpensive means Inefficient".
I open the door to the clamour of... silence. Well, silence and John Lee Hooker's "Mr Lucky" from my CD. I grab my aforementioned etherkiller and wander down the hallway to the switchboard, applying another magnet and opening that to silence as well.
That's what's missing in society today - trust.
I pull the 15 amp breaker for the meeting room, then wander on round and plug the etherkiller into a cheap 24hour timer set to 5 minutes from now. On the way back to the the switchboard I hear the first few murmurs about excessive collisions. I plug in my unpatented nail "fuse" (estimated fault current 200-300 amps) with a set of heavily insulated pliers and wander off to the tea-room to start my expresso brew. Halfway through the make, the machine stops. Now *THAT'S* what I call a collision.
I look around in a bewildered manner as panic erupts on all sides, half-made expresso in my hand. I step out into the hallway and behold pandemonium. Two programmers are fighting over a CO2 fire extinguisher in an effort to put their terminals out. I wander down to my room just as my X terminal, the unreliable peice of excretia it is, flames it's last and lapses into a dull smoulder.
"My cabinet!" I cry in 'horror' and hear the extinguisher struggle end abruptly. In a flash the two programmers concerned are behind me staring into my room. Shortly thereafter the boss runs up as well.
"What's this magnet for?" I ask, picking it up and hearing a bell start chiming in the distance.
"You bastard!" one of the programmers utters
"I'm sorry?" I ask, turning.
"YOU did it didn't you?"
"What? Break into my own cabinet? But I've got a key.."
That's the terrible burden of proof really - in this day and age, you need some to make an accusation.
The late-breaking news comes in that one of the consultants had a set of head- phones plugged into a CDROM drive hanging off their networked PC. But not anymore. Now there's an unexpected vacany in the department. I blame the Ethernet Isolation specs. 3KV my backside!
Quicker than you can say "Help us with our enquiries" I'm "helping the police with their enquiries".
"What is this, can you tell me?" a burly officer asks, right up in my face. He holds up a magnet.
"It's a magnet. There was one on my cabinet!" I cry
"Yes. And where did you get them?" he asks, seizing control..
..and losing it.
"On my cabinet! I just said!"
"No not this one. The others. Where did you get them?"
"Others? What others? You mean there were more on my cabinet! Why?!?" (I can play the "stupid game" forever, having had years of education at the hands of computer lusers.)
He tries a different tack.
"What would you say this was off?" he asks
"My cabinet! It was on my cabinet, I told you! I pulled it off... and I think I heard a bell ringing"...
.... .. .
A couple of hours later I'm back at my desk with Mr Lucky, no charges pressed. I close my cabinet, satisfaction mine for the first time in a long while.
Then the phone rings...
I get a call from the big boss - he's been getting complaints about the trainee bastard operator from hell. I ask him to forward all the complaints to me and that it would be best to let me deal with them. I ring the operator and get him to make an appointment with me.
Two weeks later, he does, and I show him the complaints that have accumulated so far.
"Seventy Three complaints in your first three weeks!" I shout "It's good - but it's NOT Good Enough! You should be getting at least 10 complaints a day - AT LEAST! Now, let's see what you're doing wrong: You get a call from a user - what do you do?"
"Kill them off?" The TBOFH replies
"NO! How can you kill them off if you don't know their USERNAME? Your FIRST priority is to get their username. Then what would you do?"
"Kill them off?"
"NO! Get them to tell you what their problem is!"
"Because later I can say they didn't explain their problem to you properly. It's a great defence - works every time. A user rings me up to complain; I listen to their problem, then say "OH, WHEN YOU SAID `MY PC DOESN'T WORK' HE MUST HAVE THOUGHT YOU MEANT `HOW CAN I MAKE MY PC NEVER WORK AGAIN AND DESTROY MY LIFE'S WORK AT THE SAME TIME?' - IT HAPPENS ALL THE TIME!' then they tell me implausible that is, I say how terribly sorry we are, then fake some connect and CPU time records so their monthly bill is about the same as the Uraguayan national debt. So, after you've heard their problem, what do you do?"
"Kill them off?"
"NO! Then you make up some excuse. Have you got an excuse card calendar?"
"And you said you were qualified to operate a computer! You'd better have mine." I pass my computer card calendar over, flipping it to page one - "ENTROPY"....... ...I like it.
"Now, you give the cretin an excuse then what do you do?"
"Kill them off?"
"YES!" (He certainly has a fixation) "Then what?"
"NO! Then they'll call you back when the problem recurs. Your job is to make them FEAR calling you. How can you work when people are calling? So, you make them pay for calling in the first place. What would you do?"
"Delete their files?"
"Yeah, it's a start, but then they may call back when they get new files. You want them NEVER to call back. What could you do?"
"Swear at them?"
"No. I can see we'll have to demonstrate. Have you got a metal ballpoint?"
"See that wallsocket over there. Take the refill out of the pen and poke in into the wallsocket."
"But it's live!"
"Would I really make you do it if it were live?"
"Oh" *fiddle* *fiddle* *BZZZZZZZEEEEERT!*
of course I would. He was no good anyway.
I get the first applicant in.
"Ok" I say "I'm just going to ask you some simple questions to guage your knowledge of Computing and Networking in relation to the Operations Field"
"Right. Question One. What's the best way to stop an individual posting nasty articles to news?"
"Close their account"
"Good - But can you elaborate?"
"Delete all their files, Change their password to `Knobhead' and Erase any backups of their account"
"Excellent. What is a killfile?"
"Uh. It's a list of usernames/topics/news items etc that you wish the news- reader to automatically skip so you don't have to wade through rubbish"
"Uh No. Remember I said pertaining to Operations. A killfile is in fact a file with a list of names of people you are going to have killed."
"Oh. Of course."
"Never mind. What is DCE?"
"Delete, Close and Erase"
"DON'T TRY to RING. The Operator's watchword"
"Well done. DBMS?"
"Dont Bug My Supervisor. Probably the most important acronym around"
"You betcha. Ok. A user comes to you with a complaint about another user sending sexually explicit email messages to them. What do you do?"
"Take a copy of the messages, close the complainant's account (by accident) and extort money from the mailer by threatening to show their parents"
"Good. I think you'll do nicely. Hang onto this wire..."
"I don't think so."
"Excellent. You passed the final test. You start tommorrow. Please leave by that door so as not to disturb the other applicants."
Electrified Door Handle. Gets them every time. I think it's the "Complaints Dept" sign that draws them to it like moths to a globe...
I push the body out onto the fire escape.