Can I help you? NO!

Its been a while since I have posted here. I am still working in the same office but I switched from Basic Support to the Web Development Team last December so things have been less customer oriented for me since then, but here's a couple stories from the good old days.

Last summer I was working with a student employee who was working on some research in one of the labs. He needed me to upgrade some of his software and install a new program they had just purchase a license for and also just do some general house-keeping on the computer such as making sure the network printers had the right drivers etc. So he calls our office to ask if we can come do this for him asap. I tell him that I am currently working on another task and that I will be able to help him in about 15 to 20 minutes. He says that is perfect. I enter a new task with the list of everything he wants done and the computer's network name so I can connect to it remotely once I'm ready.

Now our office uses a network management service called Altiris which allows us to track all the inventory information on our computers and also allows adds some features to the RDC feature already included in Windows, such as being able to chat with anyone currently using the computer.

So I open up a screen to see if anyone is currently using the computer and the student who called me is logged in. I initiate a chat and start to type a message to him but he closes the chat window before I finish typing. So I open notepad and type the message and open the chat again and paste the message in and hit enter. A few seconds pass and he closes the window again. I call the lab and no one answers. I send him another message and he finally responds with simply, "I am busy, you'll have to wait." I closed the task as Resolved and I never heard from him again.

Another annoying incident occurred when one of our dept chairs put in a request to have some software installed on his MacBook. Such an easy task right? WRONG! First of all the task was put in as URGENT! priority. Which it is not. And then when we called, two minutes after he put the request in, he was not in the office. Left a message for him and he didn't call back that day. Next day left another message for him. He finally calls back and says to come at a certain time say 10 am. So I go over at 10 and he's not there. I wait for 20 minutes, no show. I go back to the office. 11:30 and he calls finally. Now for such an urgent matter on a MacBook laptop that will take 4 minutes to complete you'd think that not only would he at least BE THERE for the appointment that HE SET, but that aside he might be able to walk 20 feet down the hall with his PORTABLE LAPTOP and knock on the door and get it done in 5 minutes instead of 2 days. (by the way, this is all typical of just about every task we get from this guy)

So I'm finally in his office with his laptop. Now all of our software installers are located on a server on our network rather than on CDs because it is faster and easier to manage that way. So I need to connect to our server in order to get this done. As I am working on the network I notice that his laptop is not on our domain. We have a policy that all of our computers that we support are supposed to be on the domain. In fact that is the first thing we are supposed to check when doing ANYTHING on someone's computer so that we know it is a computer we are in charge of. So I double check some things and find out the computer is in our inventory, it just wasn't ever added to the Active Directory. So I add it. I install his software. Everything is happy doody. Wrong.

Him: "How come on my login screen there's this 'Other' option now?"
Me: "That is there because I had to add your computer to the domain. The 'Other' option is for domain accounts."
Him: "But I don't want other accounts on my computer!"
Me: "They aren't on your computer, the domain is handled through a server. Everyone has an access level and an account which they use to logon to any computer in the college. I assure you no one has access to your files or account unless you give it to them."
Him: "It was never on the domain before. I want you to take it off."
Me: "I can't do that. It is our policy that all the computers in our inventory be on the domain. If that is a problem you need to take it up with my boss."
Him: "I will! I'm important! Me me me!"
Little voice in my head: "Something about a broom stick and his anus..."

Anyway. Life is better where I'm at now. I've only dealt with one customer outside of the office. That was a pleasant tale in which I stupidly thought I could introduce the concept of XML to a little old British lady who is supposedly familiar with HTML. Stupid me.

America's Hat

I'm not one to normally find fault with our neighbors to the North. Canada has never personally offended me and the handful of Canucks that I've known have been thoughtful and intelligent.
Furthermore, my love of syrup, terrible beer, and women that speak French (perhaps one of the few saving graces of the Québécois), I really don't have negative things to say about Canada or most Canadians (though even the dullest of readers should note my dig at Quebec in the last sentence). That being said, one of my cases the other day involved dealing with the three most dense Canadians in the history of mankind.
Some of you may recall an episode of The Simpsons in which Bart is placed in a special education class. While his classmates explain their reasons for being in the class, one is heard to remark, "They think I’m slow because I’m from Canada, eh?"
That describes, to perfection, these men.

The call started off a day prior when the primary business owner (henceforth called "Canuck Chuck") was working with a coworker to configure a VPN. That call reached a head with the question "How do I attach something to an email?"

The stage had been set. The bar was as low as it could go, and it was about to get worse.
I was contacted by Canuck Chuck's employee (from here on out, Canad Ian). When I asked Canad Ian what I could help him with, he informed me that he needed to connect to a server.
Ok, I can figure this out, "How do you need to connect to it?"
"I don't know..."
".........soooooooooooooo, where is the server located?"
"Uhh... I don't know, eh?*"
Alright, this was going to be fun. After about five minutes of Abbott and Costello style dialogue, I concluded that the customer did not have enough information to move anywhere with the issue.
The call concluded with him deciding to call back later with Canuk Chuck.

A short time later and I was speaking to Canuk Chuck and Canad Ian.
The problem, it seems, was that Canad Ian needed help with a VPN installation. Not a configuration, mind you. AN INSTALLATION.
Canuk Chuck had emailed the installation files and a configuration file to him but they had not been able to progress past that point.
This SHOULD be cake.
I started the walk-through, "Ok, open up the zip file."
Canad Ian decided to densen things up, "What zip file?"
"Did Canuk Chuck send you an email?"
"Yeah."
"Is there a zip file in it?"
"There are two files. One is named 'VPN' and one is named 'Settings'."
"Well, how about you download both of them?"
"But which one do I need, eh?*"
"BOTH.OF.THEM."
Canad Ian proceeded to download both files and promptly forget where he downloaded them to.
After a quick run around, I was able to locate them in a folder located in his Program Files.
On to the install, FINALLY, "Ok, now I want you to double click on the 'VPN.zip' file."
"Ok, it has a file called add1.bat, add1.cab, blah blah blah blah blah-"
"OK, that's fine. Do you see something that says 'Extract All Files' on the left side of the window?"
"No... but I see add1.cab, add1.bat, blah blah blah blah-"
"OK, try looking to the LEFT of those."
"No...no...I don't see it. I see 'My Computer', 'My Documents', 'Netwo-"
"Are you looking to the left of the window or to the left of the screen?"
"OH! Ok, Yeah. Now I see it! It's really hidden, eh?*"
"........Yeah, sure. I guess it can really get away from you."
From here I instruct Canad Ian to extract all of his files to a folder on his desktop. As expected, this results in us having to navigate around to find where he ACTUALLY extracted the files.
I don't recall where we found them, simply that it made about as much sense as the rest of the call already had.
Before moving forward, I made him disable his Anti-Virus and firewall, just to be on the safe side.
It was finally time to install, "OK, now look for a file that says 'Setup' and appears to be an executable file."
"Setup.inx?"
"No"
"Setup.bin?"
"No"
"Well, I don't see any other setup file!"
"Do you see anything that says .exe or has 'Install Shield' under it?"
"There's a file called 'setup' with 'Install Shield' under it. It's not capitalized, though."
".............."
"Should I click on that one?"
".....Yes.... click that one."
We then dance through the usual "Just click 'next'," conversation until I hear the default Windows XP warning noise.
With dread in my heart I asked, "What just happened? Did you get an error?"
"No, it was just my Anti-Virus trying to stop me from installing it."
"Is your anti-virus not disabled?"
"I closed the icon down at the bottom, that means it's off, eh?*"
The pain? UNBEARABLE.
Amazingly, we get through the install and reboot the device. It's taking an amazingly long time.
Canad Ian says to me, "Sorry for the delay, but I'm a little slow over here."
Truer words were never spoken.

Restart complete, we import the policy and successfully connect back to the office. Canuck Chuck then jumps in and says, "Now how does he get to the server?"
I pose the usual sort of questions about the IP address of the server, if they have a portal they access it from, is it tied to a domain, etc. Canuck Chuck doesn't know, "It was just set up after all."
Since Canuck Chuck was at the office I was able to have him determine the IP address of the server after a long walk through the GUI on Windows Server 2003. I then had him attempt to access the server from another locally connected computer. That process involved such gems as,
"Let me check that and make sure I typed in 'one nine two dot one six eight dot zero dot two' and not 'one nine two dot one six eight dot oh dot one oh oh'," and "Of course I can access the server, I'm sitting at it!"
It became very quickly apparent that NOTHING had been configured on his server. At this point in time, it was just another computer.
"Well Canuck Chuck, it looks like you haven't configured your server to do anything yet. It doesn't seem to be a file or web server, and doesn't seem to be handling email or anything for you. Have you tried configuring yet?"
Canuck Chuck was very confused, "Well, no, I hired a guy who's going to do that."

He hired a guy to set up his server and network. For whatever reason, he didn't see fit to involve this guy in any of the call. Furthermore, he didn't consider asking this gentleman about why he couldn't reach his server! Instead, he contacted the manufacturer of his router!

I explained the issue at hand and Canuck Chuck decided he would speak to his "server expert" after the call. However, he still wanted to know if I could help ANOTHER employee with his VPN install.
SURE! Why not? (It was at this point that it took all I had not to weep like a little girl.)

Here we meet the third stooge. We'll call him Labatt Blue.
Labatt was no better than Cand Ian when it came to basic computer usage. In fact, he disabled his anti-virus in the same way! Great minds think alike!
I instructed Labatt Blue to download the files that he had recieved from Canuck Chuck and place them on his desktop. I then asked him to double click on the .zip file and open it from the desktop.
"I can't."
"Why not?" I asked, barely hiding my excitement.
"It's in my email."
Now, I'm sure I could have done some fancy dancing and found out what was up, but instead I went for the easy way. I used a quick and dirty VNC client to connect to his machine and take command (For the non-techie readers, I used a program to see and control his computer from my office).
It seems it was a simple problem: HE DIDN'T EVEN DOWNLOAD THE FILES.
For those of you that are instructed to download files from your email, don't click "Send/Recieve Mail" and believe that it's done. That's not how it works. Bad... Bad.

We get the VPN client downloaded, installed, and configured. Labatt Blue connects and then asks me, "Ok, so, how do I reach the server, eh?*"
I figure that Canuck Chuck will inform him that the server isn't being used for anything yet. I hold my tongue and wait. And wait. And wait. A good solid minute of silence hangs in the air before Labatt Blue says, "You still there, guy?"
Damn you Canuck Chuck...damn you. "As I was telling Canuck Chuck, your server isn't configured to do anything at this point. It's just sitting there. You can't access it yet."
Labatt Blue seemed to get it, "Oh, ok. It's not setup yet."
"Yes"
"So now you're going to help me set it up?"
"..........NO. NO. I'M NOT."
"Well then how will I use the server, eh?*"

And that's how I spent my afternoon with Bob and Doug McKenzie.



*"eh?" added for comic effect... though honestly they did say it several times.

Every different place is more the same

Well, I was given the option to transfer out of the group I was with at the old job.
I decided instead to quit.
I ended up briefly working for a CRM group doing analysis of customer usage... it wasn't fulfilling.
Then THEY downsized and I ended up working for a company that makes SOHO network equipment.
Goodall works here as well now.

The first chapter has ended, but the book isn't over.

Here is our story:

This place is divided into a few groups: Managers (semi-tech), Engineers (technical), Business Techs (Goodall and I belong to this group), Greeters (non-technical), and Punching Bags (customers call these people to bitch and/or buy things).

Managers like to think they're useful.... and they are...sorta.
Engineers ARE useful... at least, some of them.
Business Techs cover the spread. Some are worth their weight in gold, some are idiots. Most aren't too noteworthy.
Greeters are almost all human scum. Collections of STDs and failed abortions, these people perform the most basic actions yet STILL seem to fuck it up. Maybe two to three are worth more than things I scrape off of my boot.
Lastly, Punching Bags.
Christ... these people pretend to be hard working martyrs. In reality, they basically have the same jobs as the Greeters. The only difference is that they also have to field complaints on the Business and Engineer techs. Boo-hoo-hoo.
They do less work and complain that they do too much.
They do easy work and complain that it's too hard.
They goof off and complain that the job is all go-go-go.
Worthless.Human.Waste.

Lets have a good long look at one of them, shall we?

We'll call her "Wheezy". This isn't because she's in any way like Louise Jefferson. Not in the least.
This woman is a withered hag. Her soul itself is nothing but stale tobacco and cheap fragrance. If her raw and raspy voice wasn't painful enough, her "laugh"sounds like a broken squeak toy.
Even with her voice little more than a desert wind in a paper bag, she still finds a way to deafen anyone within vicinity. Lucky for them, they'll already have choked on the fumes from the cheap perfume she bathes in daily before any lasting hearing damage is done. If I had to guess, she's probably in her mid 30's, but years of smoking and working as a cheap hooker have taken their toll, leaving her looking like a 70-year-old gold-digger trying to hold onto the pathetic, threadbare essence that she still considers "beautiful".
Long and short: I feel a mixture of terror/hatred towards this woman. You should expect, Dear Readers, that she will end up factoring into several stories from this place.
Consider yourselves warned.

Delusions of catastrophe

Have you ever found yourself staring out the window looking at all of the cars below and you see one in particular that doesn't look quite right. Then before you can even begin to formulate hypotheses about the nature of this anomalous vehicle; it explodes! You find yourself flying to your feet barely believing the scene laid before you, flames coursing into the air and shrapnel riddled bodies spread across the lot. In that instant of complete exasperation moments before you shout for your colleagues to come running your neighbor lightly touches your shoulder and asks, "are you okay?" You begin to motion towards the window so they can see the carnage which has besieged your heretofore unremarkable workplace when something out of the corner of your eye catches your attention; the car, no longer in flames ambulatory personnel where once, moments before, laid the dead and wounded. Perplexed you compose yourself and say, "oh nothing, just a charlie horse," hoping this vain attempt to conceal your surprise will assuage the curiosity of your fellow office drone.

It seems that daydreaming about explosions and dead colleagues is not enough for some people. A few days ago the building in which we work was the target of a bomb threat. Not something terribly exciting considering the number of fire drills we are subjected to and former experience as a Security Manager for a similar company. This event was made all the more inane by the Managerial Harbingers of our Certain Doom walking calmly down the halls forcefully screaming, "this is not a drill." It occurs to me a more effective, if not certainly more entertaining, threat alert would be the same Managerial Harbingers of Certain Doom (MHCDs) to run down the aisles screaming with voices full of barely contained dread, "bend over, kiss yer ass g'bye, cause we're'll about ta die!" Because nothing says "End of Days" like poorly enunciated rhymes.

So the evacuation progressed as evacuations often do in the absence of immediate visual or sensory queues like dead bodies, or flaming corpses or people on fire soon to be dead and corpses. People slowly moved down stairwells to exits predefined in the evacuation plan no one has read. The heard of human cattle seemingly oblivious of the droning alarms and strobing klaxons were prodded forth by the helpful screams of their MHCDs. It was only then, many minutes later the building had been fully evacuated, this was signaled by the exit of the security staff who had, for the entire evacuation, been diligently visually monitoring their cell phones to make sure they did not miss any important text messages over the obtrusive commotion.

We waited outside for a little over an hour, loudly speculating as to the cause of the evacuation. Passing the time by incriminating our fellow coworkers with little to no conviction, and finally starting a pool to see who could accurately predict what precipitated the not so hasty evacuation. It turns out I lost the pool betting on the invasion of clown-midget-vampire-Eskimo-zombies... from outer space. As an aside, the building down the street was also evacuated, while they spray for clown-midget-vampire-Eskimo-zombies... from outer space.

With only 45 minutes of the work day remaining the MHCDs decided emergency services would not be finished in time for us to return to work so we were excused, with these final instructions: "Though the building is still likely to explode you are authorized to approach it to retrieve your vehicles."

A point well missed...

In a given day my responsibilities include the following:

1. Accurately answer questions via email.
2. When no emails are present, surf the web.
3. Should the web prove to be uninteresting, scotch tape my eyelids open and nap.
4. After napping avoid doing the following:

A. Starting fires.
B. Shouting obscenities.
C. Flinging poop.
D. Propositioning the hot chick in HR and getting suspended… again.
E. None of tne of the above.

People seem to misconstrue the meaning of “accurately” in aforementioned, completely non-fictitious, job duties; they seem to think accuracy means, “The answer I want to hear” not “The truth.” As a result of this exceedingly common misconception I get yelled at a lot.

An example of this misconception happened recently. I received an email from one of our large partners requesting network design assistance, now I’m a product specialist and in no way obligated to provide network designs to our partners, that’s why they get paid in big burlap bags with dollar signs on them and I get paid in expired frosty coupons from Wendy’s.

This partner wanted to create a configuration which would allow him to utilize internet connections at two separate sites, how this is accomplished isn’t important the important thing is this partner wanted to do this with equipment which is incapable of this function. I told him this and explained to him how to design his network to do this with existing equipment. This was last week.

This morning I received a new case from this partner attempting to reach a different engineer asking the nearly the same question. Providing the same, though rephrased, answer and politely explaining again how to configure his equipment to do what he wanted I sent off the return email. This partner must have been completely with out other work because five minutes later I received another response.

“You’ve completely missed the point,” then my oh so dense partner goes on to explain again in a different way that he wants this specific device to do something which is not only impossible because the product he wants can not perform this operation; but because no device in this category of products, industry wide, can do what he wants done.

My good partner, I am afraid it is you who has missed the point; you can not get me to confirm incorrect information so you have a basis on which to return products you, for total lack of your own research, incorrectly purchased in the first place. So the moral of the story, “no” does not mean try harder, it means “no and if you ask me again I will use a high-powered pneumatic staple gun to attach your scrotum to the back side of your head.

No intro needed.

This story deserves no intro:  I was on the phone with my husband outside the call floor when I was on my break one day.  There is a wall of windows that I was staring out, not really paying attention.  I saw Penguin and Bionic Nerd leaving the building.  I didnt really think anything of it, they always leave when I am on my break.  The next thing I see is Penguin drive his car over a mound of snow.  Of course, it got stuck on top of the mound of snow. (FYI:  It had snowed previously that week, and there was a mound of snow separating the parking stall, no other way to describe it.  Think of the mound of snow that a snow-plow leaves behind.)  Now this mound of snow that Penguin tried to drive his car over was not a small mound, not one that I would have tried.  OH, I neglected to mention, Penguin has a FORD TAURUS!!!!  Okay, Penguin, maybe if you have a four-wheeler, try driving over the mound of snow.  But a Ford TAURUS!?? Seriously.  Okay, back to me watching this out the wall of windows.  I quickly got off the phone, ran in the call floor and ran to Goodall to tell him its important to look out the window.  By this time, Penguin and Bionic Nerd are standing outside the car, inspecting the problem.  Then over the next hour, they try to push the car, shovel the car, will the car off the mound of snow.  Now, picture this:  two fat boys trying to free a Taurus off the mountain of snow.  I could not help but laugh.  In fact, almost all the people on the call floor had their noses and hands plastered to the windows.  Finally, I believe they shoveled their way out, but none the less my point is this.... Penguin, who knows everything about everything and is never wrong, finally went over the edge.  Too bad the mound of snow wasnt high enough that I could have pushed him off...... 

PhD in dumbassness

So I hope my colleagues will forgive me for posting stories on here relating to my current job rather than the good old call center. I stopped working there about 5 months ago and started a job closer to my school. I do still do tech support however and in fact my department is actually called the call center even though I usually am running around physically fixing computers rather than taking calls.

At my new job I do computer support for a group of individuals many of whom have PhDs though you wouldn't think so based on some of the problems I have had to help with and some of the questions I have had to answer. Everyone's heard the "is it plugged in?" tech support joke and can't believe anyone could really be that stupid. Well I'm here to confirm that yes people are that stupid. It happens a lot more often than you would think too. I would say probably at least once a week I am faced with cases like this. Often I will call the person requesting assistance and ask them exactly what is happening just in case the problem can be resolved over the phone. Sometimes this works but not in cases such as the one I am about to describe.

I got a case last week from one of our esteemed PhDers stating that he had been gone a few days and for some reason when he got back his computer would not turn on. My first thought was that it could possibly be a fried computer and he would need a new one. So I call him up and asked him the usual questions. "Did you check the power cord?" "Is it showing any lights or making any noises at all?" These were all met with the answer "I don't know I'm not a computer genius!" So I finally resolve to come take a look myself. I arrive to the office and go to the desk ignoring the blabber from the man telling me his complete ignorance when it comes to "computing stuff" and I push the power button. Computer fires right up.

Another instance occurred a little longer back. The main secretary office called us to tell us that their printers were all working yesterday but now today they aren't working. Me and a co-worker head down to investigate. We check the printers and they are all printing configuration pages fine but can't get any jobs over the network. Must be a connection problem right? That would make sense. We ask the head secretary if he checked the network cables already and he says yes. Doubting him I decided to check myself. Sure enough all of the printers are plugged in snug and tight to the switch. One tiny little problem though. The switch was not plugged into the wall. When asked how I fixed the problem I told the secretary that the switch just wasn't plugged in and was met with "we get network connection through the wall?"

Yes my friend this is why we prefer you frickin retarded faggots don't move shit around when you don't know what the piss you are doing. You would think one of the requirements to be a secretary would be "Must know what a computer is and know how to use it (including how to READ THE ERROR MESSAGE BEFORE CLOSING IT!)". Sorry that's a story for another day.