» Sleepwalking

Could I love a desk?
God knows why but I recently woke up in the middle of the night, awoke the Mrs and declared 'Don't worry dear - you're not a desk'. Suffice to say she was completely bemused so I patted her on the head patronisingly, shook my head and went back to sleep.

The following morning I was unsurprisingly quizzed about DeskGate and I managed to recall how I'd had a dream where she was worried that she might be a desk, and I saw fit to wake her and put her mind at rest.

Later in the day she did what a lot of women did and started addling my brain with ridiculous questions. I received a text message that simply read "Would you still love me if I was a desk?". Clearly seeking some kind of reassurance, I gathered my thoughts, considered the best way to put her at ease and replied "I'd still want to look in your drawers". We're still together, surprisingly.
(Fri 24th Aug 2007, 9:36, More)

» Oldies vs Computers

Library fun
When I was at school the headmaster (in his wisdom) put the all-new Windows 3.1 PC network into the library (main reason being that was the only place big enough to put it). Of course that meant that the library administrators now took on the mantle of network admin, and with it security of the network. Their solution? To give every user a country for a password. Once a couple of us realised the pattern being employed it took us all of about 15 minutes to test everybody's usernames against certain countries until we had a list of just about everyone's passwords. The plan was to sign onto known bullies' accounts and wreak havoc, but unfortunately the old buffers realised what was going on and closed down the accounts immediately. "Damn" thought we, "chaos denied".

After a few days a new security bill was drafted and the accounts were re-opened with new passwords. Shortly after the following conversation ensued:

Me: What's your new password?
Mate: Apple
Me: Mine's banana

Took us ten minutes this time.
(Wed 27th Sep 2006, 15:26, More)

» Karma

A bit crap, but...
Last year on the Thursday before my birthday weekend I went to Tescos for the usual stuff. Upon leaving the till I noticed a tenner folded up on the floor. I had a quick look round to see if it was obviously dropped by someone but couldn't see anyone, so I handed it in at the info desk. The security guy scoffed at me as if to say "It's only a tenner" but that could've been someone's last tenner in the world. Feeling smug I left the store and went home.

Skip forward two days to the night out. We got to the first pub and despite it being my birthday I offered to get a drink in. I put my hand in my pocket to find it empty. The tenner I'd been given as a present was no longer there. Panicking, I resigned myself to the fact that I'd lost the money when I got a tap on the shoulder. A bloke who had been stood at the door had found said tenner on the floor and wondered if it was mine. I could have kissed him (I didn't). I offered him a drink but he politely declined and went back to his mates.

Absolute legend. Obviously, had I hung onto the Tescos tenner I wouldn't have been out of pocket, but I like to think that my good deed perpetuated his.

Then again, I could've been ten quid up. We'll never know.
(Fri 22nd Feb 2008, 12:30, More)

» Voyeurism

That's not her drawers
Years ago a few friends and I went to Benidorm. Our hotel afforded a good view across the town towards the beach, and took in a row of holiday homes on the street opposite. Regularly while we were sunning ourselves on the balcony, several other people would be doing the same across the street, oblivious to our view of them.

One day, a not-entirely-unattractive older lady was out there, doing - of all things - her ironing. Being the only thing close to an attractive female we'd seen on those balconies so far, she became something of a celebrity with us. "She's ironing again" would be the shout, and we'd all pile out to have a quick look.

One such occasion represented the Utopia of our voyeurism - obviously thinking she was secluded out there, she'd decided a spot of topless ironing was in order. Cue the following conversation:

Me: "Fellas, she's out again. And she's topless"
* STAMPEDE FROM WITHIN THE ROOM AS THE OTHERS JOIN ME *
Mate: Nice
Me: Yep. It's a pity she's wearing such minging knickers though. Look at 'em, they look like some kind of animal fur
Mate: Er...
Me: What?
Mate: I'm not sure that is a pair of knickers actually...

Closer inspection did indeed reveal that she wasn't just topless, but completely starkers, and in posession of possibly THE bushiest clopper this side of Germany. It actually went round the back as well. Suffice to say she was stricken from the spy list very shortly afterwards...
(Mon 15th Oct 2007, 12:49, More)

» IT Support

Priorities
Like most Helpdesk operatives, I have a million stories of idiocy (mine and the users) but there's one which stands out a mile in terms of a user's priorities being slightly askew to the rest of us...

About 3 years ago I was out of the office on a particularly windy day. On my way back in the afternoon, dodging lorries tipping over on the motorway, I received a call from a colleague. Their point was succinct:

"The roof's blown off the building so we're moving everybody. Hurry up"

And that's literally what was happening. A 5-metre square piece of roofing had been blown off in the wind, so we were hastily moving users into another office (which luckily was being prepared to house them anyway, in light of the knackered state of said roof).

When I arrived, I was met by a traumatic scene. Dozens of people, mainly women, carrying anything they could lay their hands on; files, coats, even the occasional PC, while the big lads from the warehouse lugged the desks from one office to the other.

In the end, the whole process only took 4 hours, in which time we set up desks, connected power and network and repatched the telephones. Everyone was understanding about the time it was taking us (3 of us to reconnect 40+ machines/phones). Except one lady.

Whilst knee deep in cables on a grubby floor, she came over and began to complain that her PC "wasn't right". I looked round to see if one of the others could help her but they weren't available. She then began loudly complaining about how she couldn't work like this, and her face generally took on the guise of a slapped arse. I therefore dropped everything and went across the office to see what the problem was.

The problem? Her desktop PC had been put down on the wrong side, so the power button was too near the floor and she couldn't reach it to turn on/off from her seat.

It hadn't even been connected to the power at the time...
(Fri 25th Sep 2009, 12:42, More)