The Background Story
by chinwhat at 10:24 p.m.
First off, I’d apologize for not updating often, but I’m not really sorry. A good mix of loafting-ness, lack of ideas and a *LOT* of D’Angelo dl’ing (I know ai, Alison and Becky gots my back on this one!) had me uninterested for a bit… anyways, on with the blog…
I’d say this happened two months back or so:
One Friday, all my co-workers were either on lunch or took the afternoon off. Me going dolo for our building and the corporate site across the street… the thing is I didn’t know that nobody was available to help until I got a certain phone call.
“Help desk, Chin speaking”
”Hi, this is (Mr. Misc) calling from corporate, can you please call (Ms. X)? She can’t seem to print. Thanks!"
I do a quick check in Outlook’s Address book and it turns out that (Ms. X) is the personal assistant to the CEO of our company (aka my boss’s boss’s boss’s boss’s boss.) I call with the quickness…
“Hi this is Chin from the TRO Help desk. I received a message saying you can’t print?”
”Yes. I can’t print and (IT VP person) and (IT support person) isn’t here”
(I begin to go through the routine questions) “Okay, are you able to open up your personal or share folders?”
“Yes.”
”Okay, uhm, do you know how to get your VNC* number?” *(IPAddress so we can connect remotely to someone’s computer)
(In a straight forward tone) “I don’t know what that is!”
“Do you see the at the bottom right where the time is? There’s a bunch of icons. You don’t need to click on it, just put your mouse-“
“I don’t have time for this. Just come over” >click<
(I'm all screw faced, still holding the telephone reciever to my ear) “............”
Now at this point, I wasn’t sure exactly what I should do. I knew I should stay at my desk since that’s what I’m supposed to do… Yet, she is who she is! So after trying to get a hold of somebody – anybody! – I get a call from my supe. He somehow got wind of it and called me from his celly. He told me to get my ass there and *HOW* to get there because I’ve never been. I’ve never had to. Nor wanted to since it was mostly sales pigs and upper upper management. I liked my building – it was full of working stiffs… just like me. Grunt workers unite! Anyways, I nervously make my way across the street thinking to myself: “Self, you’d better fix this shit, because if you don’t, you’ll look like a big fucking idiot!” I get in and had to check in at reception – noting how pish posh it was. Ms. X comes and gets me and quickly orders “Here’s my computer, and I can’t print this.”
I look it over and play around (voice crackly like I was 16 again) “Uh, where’s your printer?”
“>sigh< It’s over there”
Lucky for me, it just printed and I make my way the fuck out! As I exit the reception area, some lady (I have no idea who she is or how she knew who I was) says: “I hope she wasn’t to mean to you”
(Trying to be as PC as possible) “Oh, no… she was, uh… (Voice wavers) ‘nice’” I skedaddle.
Fast forward to one month ago:
Annual golf tourney sign up begins. A co-worker from upstairs comes down to talk about some computer stuff. The topic of the golf event comes up and she hard core runs a sales pitch on me.
"You gotta go!"
"'I gotta go?'"
"You GOTTA go!!!"
And you know what? I was sold! I sign up since it sounded pretty good: wicked prizes, great food, lots of fun, good times, good times! What else could I want, right?
Fast forward to last week:
Random teams are announced. It’s moi, random director of finance (or something), some other person I didn’t know, and… Ms. X!!!
Me: (whispers) “shit!”
Tomorrow: What happened Saturday at the golf tourney.
WAR Voodoo Sessions
I’d say this happened two months back or so:
One Friday, all my co-workers were either on lunch or took the afternoon off. Me going dolo for our building and the corporate site across the street… the thing is I didn’t know that nobody was available to help until I got a certain phone call.
“Help desk, Chin speaking”
”Hi, this is (Mr. Misc) calling from corporate, can you please call (Ms. X)? She can’t seem to print. Thanks!"
I do a quick check in Outlook’s Address book and it turns out that (Ms. X) is the personal assistant to the CEO of our company (aka my boss’s boss’s boss’s boss’s boss.) I call with the quickness…
“Hi this is Chin from the TRO Help desk. I received a message saying you can’t print?”
”Yes. I can’t print and (IT VP person) and (IT support person) isn’t here”
(I begin to go through the routine questions) “Okay, are you able to open up your personal or share folders?”
“Yes.”
”Okay, uhm, do you know how to get your VNC* number?” *(IPAddress so we can connect remotely to someone’s computer)
(In a straight forward tone) “I don’t know what that is!”
“Do you see the at the bottom right where the time is? There’s a bunch of icons. You don’t need to click on it, just put your mouse-“
“I don’t have time for this. Just come over” >click<
(I'm all screw faced, still holding the telephone reciever to my ear) “............”
Now at this point, I wasn’t sure exactly what I should do. I knew I should stay at my desk since that’s what I’m supposed to do… Yet, she is who she is! So after trying to get a hold of somebody – anybody! – I get a call from my supe. He somehow got wind of it and called me from his celly. He told me to get my ass there and *HOW* to get there because I’ve never been. I’ve never had to. Nor wanted to since it was mostly sales pigs and upper upper management. I liked my building – it was full of working stiffs… just like me. Grunt workers unite! Anyways, I nervously make my way across the street thinking to myself: “Self, you’d better fix this shit, because if you don’t, you’ll look like a big fucking idiot!” I get in and had to check in at reception – noting how pish posh it was. Ms. X comes and gets me and quickly orders “Here’s my computer, and I can’t print this.”
I look it over and play around (voice crackly like I was 16 again) “Uh, where’s your printer?”
“>sigh< It’s over there”
Lucky for me, it just printed and I make my way the fuck out! As I exit the reception area, some lady (I have no idea who she is or how she knew who I was) says: “I hope she wasn’t to mean to you”
(Trying to be as PC as possible) “Oh, no… she was, uh… (Voice wavers) ‘nice’” I skedaddle.
Fast forward to one month ago:
Annual golf tourney sign up begins. A co-worker from upstairs comes down to talk about some computer stuff. The topic of the golf event comes up and she hard core runs a sales pitch on me.
"You gotta go!"
"'I gotta go?'"
"You GOTTA go!!!"
And you know what? I was sold! I sign up since it sounded pretty good: wicked prizes, great food, lots of fun, good times, good times! What else could I want, right?
Fast forward to last week:
Random teams are announced. It’s moi, random director of finance (or something), some other person I didn’t know, and… Ms. X!!!
Me: (whispers) “shit!”
Tomorrow: What happened Saturday at the golf tourney.
WAR Voodoo Sessions
2 Comments:
"print this, beyatch!"
haha that is funny! But I hear ya when the owner ex Governor General of Ontario's secretary calls me up I run! haha I love it though the guy is great! Ahh the perks of being at the bottom of the totem poll :)
Post a Comment
<< Home