We often have to support governors, i.e, people with the self-importance of a senator but the logical abilities of a whelk. They’ve been given corporate laptops to use from home (I’d love to find whose idea this was so that I can thank them with a fist squarely to the face). Obviously this has turned into a quagmire of tech-spazzery over the intervening year. Half the people in my office are now grey because of it, i swear. Old people with narcissistic and delusional “don’t you know who I am” complexes should NOT be given technology to play with. They certainly shouldn’t be given our number.
So a few weeks back I had a call which lasted over an hour, to some old fart who lacked every essential trait needed to understand the most basic tenets of computing. Getting any workable information out of him was nigh-on impossible, but after talking to him like a fucking child (press the blue E with the left button on the hand-mover thingy) it turned out the website he was trying to get to was nothing to do with our remote access software, but was in fact his online bank.
Apparently the fact he couldn’t get to his online banking was my fault. It had been a long day up till that point so I kind of gave up trying to explain to him why such support was impossible for me to do and simply gave him this analogy:
Would you walk into your bank and ask for a cheeseburger and fries? No? Then hopefully that goes someway to explaining how I’m unable to help you here, seeing as my job has nothing to do with your online banking website.
“But you’re IT, not a chef!”
Why do I work in this industry again?
[Picture Source: Eirik Newth (CC)]