Walter Miller's Homepage

The message is the medium, and in this case, also the messenger...Or somthing like that.

Late April 1998 Update

Page 6 of 7


I need Passwords and permisions

There is no tech support at this place. Actualy, there used to be, but abbout a month before I was hired, there was a big all-hands staff meeting where the peoplle who used to do tech support said they will not do it any more becuase they are too busy. This is just fine, but i still needed someone to assign me permisions to get on the network server, and also to give me passwords to get on the lan.

I was sittin at my cube (my empty cube) drinking tea and the guy who is my boss came by and saw me readin WIRED magazine. He said to me "What the hell are YOU doing?"

I told him I didnt have my workstattion yet. Also, it was 9:15 AM, and just me and him are the onley people in the whole office. He told me to "send Ops an E-mail and tell them to give you friggin permissions." (Exept he used the stronger "F" word).

I told him that I alredy DID: I told him that i sent them 5 e-mails. (Actualy, since i didnt have a workstation yet, I sent the 5 e-mails from my own ISP account at home). And also three phone mails. And I got NO answor to any of them.

Well, he marches off all pissed and says that now HE is goingto send an e-mail to Ops. So, around 10:30, the Ops guy and my boss both show up at my cube again, and the Ops guy is all pissed and starts hollaring at my boss that he is VERY BUSY, and also starts shouting at me that HE never got no e-mail from me and it must be because I am a Liar!!!

(I later found out that the Ops peopple dump any e-mail thats not from their domain becuase they think its spam. Oh, puh-LEEZE.)

Two hours lator the lady from Support comes by with an eqiuptment cart and she says to me, "Ops is pissed at you," and she dumps my ancient Pentium PC right on the desk of my cube with a purposely loud thump from abbout 4 inches up. There was a rats nest of wires and cables all over and i asummed i had to link it all up myself. I asked her some questons but she cut me off in mid sentence and said to me "I am too busy to know or care."

Then she told me, dont bothor calling her for Support, and dont even THINK of calling Systems for support, because the Systems people are even busier than her -- Or at least they THINK they are -- because truth be told, she herself is the busiest persen of all at Cyberblop.

I was beggining to notice a theme: Evereyone allways talks abuot how danm busy they are.

An hour lator I was all set up.

And yes, I had to set myeself up -- with no help from these horse's asses.

Next, I turned on the machene, but I had no passwords. In fact, I even needed a password to boot Windows NT.

I took a walk over to where the Ops and Support and Systems peopple sit. One Ops guy was on the phone with his wife. Two othor guys were at their workstattions but ignored me as i asked the same qeustion over and over and over about HOW do i get my passwords. They were playing music extremly loud. I must of been there 10 minuts asking them ovor and over but these two acted like no one was there. At one point, they made the music louder. The guy on the phone was giving me an angrey staire the whole time. Anothor guy was there too; he was reclined and fast asleep on a pissey looking vinyl couch and had magazines all ovor him like he was a homeless persen on a park bench.

Finaly the guy on the phone looked up at me and said "WE ARE TOO BUSY TO HELP YOU." He also added that the guy who was asleeap on the couch is sleepin because he is always working so hard, and even if he was awake, i woud be out of luck becuase there are so many othor "priorities" to be done.

Next, I go to my Boss's ofice to tell him what is going on. As i describe my dillemma, his face slowley grows dark and sudenly crumpols and turns red like a cherry with all the jiuce squeesed out of it. He hisses at me like a snake "Walter, cant you GET ALONG with these people?"

With no where else to go, I head back to my cube.

After i am sittin there stairing at a blank log-in screen for a few minutts, sudenly I hear a loud screaming noise and right behind me is the lady I mentionned before, The Lady Who Screamms at Everyone. She is screamin right at ME. Aparantly she thinks I was suposed to of done somthing that is not done. I told her that i dont even have permissions or network paswords yet. She screammed even loudor. I was frustratted, so in responce i raised my voice a little.

I have the kind of voice that cannot get up to a scream. Infact i dont think i evor screammed in my life. My voice just gets high and crackly.

Well this was a misteak becuase she started screamin even more. Then she started walking away, still screaming. The guy in the cube next to mine leans ovor to me and whispors, "You must have a death wish, becuase that's your bosses' boss."

An all-hands staff meeting

Arround 2 PM we all assemble in the Conference Room, this ugly fake-wood-panelled room with greasy folding chairs and cheap indoor/outdoor carpating that looks like theres vomit and dogcrap stains on the floor. The room looks like one of those cult de-programming rooms you see in PBS doccumenteries.

About 25 peoplle are in there and we are waitting for 3 or 4 more people to show up until the meeting can begin. They keep calling the 3 or 4 peopel on the console phone, and each one keeps saying the same thing: "I'll be there in 5 minuts: I'M BUSY."

In the meantime, beffore the meeting starts, The Lady Who Screamms At Everyone starts hauling off on some poor middol-aged guy who looked like the oldest guy in the room. This is a casual dressing work enviroment (jeans and T-shirts) but for some reasen The Lady Who Screams is the onley persen in this companey who dresses nice. After she was finishhed with screammin at that poor guy for 30 minuts infront of the whole group, who walks in the room but those 3 or 4 people who everyone was tryin to get ahold of.

By this time, 5 or 6 othor people who are alreaddy in the Conference room say, "I AM TOO BUSY WAITIN FOR THIS DANM MEETING TO START" and they storm out of there. The meeting had to be cancelled and reschedoulled for another time.

I spent the next few hours sittin at my cube like a bored prisonor in a cell. Like I said i coudnt even boot the OS, so i coud atleast play Hearts or Minesweeper. I think at one point I actualy fell asleep.

Arround 4 oclock I hear this loud banging noise and some shouting. It startled me becuase I hadnt realized how quiet the office had became. Suddenly somthing whistoled past my ear, and crashed into my cubical and bounced like crazey off the cube walls. It was a plastic wiffol ball. The shouts were from the Systems and Ops and Suport guys. These bastords were abbout 150 feet away playing wiffol ball.

I called out to them and said that mabye they can NOW PLEASE help me get my danm network IDs. One of them laughad very loud and the othor directed a vulgor two-word sexaul term at me and it wasnt "Let's Dance."

I took a walk around the office, but my boss was gone. In fact every person in every cube and office was gone. While I was lookin out of the window to see that our parkin lot was almost emptey, I was startoled by a giant *POP!* when a wiffel ball slammed into a foam ceiling tile dirrectley abbove my head, busting it in two and i was sprinkoled with a cascade of puffey chips and white powdor. They were shreiking and luaghing their asses off. If this is asbestos, i am suing these bastords.

It was only 10 minuts after 4. So you know what i did? I SAID SCREUW THIS AND THEN I WENT HOME TOO.

I figoured that the only bright point to this whole thing was, was that i woud be working mostly with the Management and Marketting/Comunnications people -- But I later found out that those folks were the stupidest and meanest of all. Oh well. I guess I will haveto write abbout that in another update. I was allmost pleased to return home to the old bastord. And when i did, what i found there was:

A fight in proggress

I had arived home early enuogh to take Granfather and Uncle Zeke out to supper. I walked in to find the two men toumbling on the floor in a cloud of blood, hair and stringey snot.

wHAT THE FIGHT WAS ABBOUT