I forgot about this until just now!
I might have been in a world of danger today. I might not have been. Who knows. It gave me the heebie jeebies for real.
From time to time, in the course of my job, I find myself in the homes of customers. Sometimes, no matter what we do, we just can't solve a problem without somebody going out there in person. Usually, in such instances, the problem has nothing to do with us but customers don't understand that and with threaten to stop being customers if we don't fix it. I go, and fix it, and show them that it wasn't our problem (every once in a while it acutally is).
Today I went to such a house. It was an old home and not in the greatest neighborhood. Not a scary neighborhood but the sort of neighborhood where there are too many industrial buildings nearby for you to really feel like you'd be safe walking around at night. This appointment, however, was not during night time.
I knocked on the door and a young man answered and invited me in. I walked in and noticed the place was sparsly furnished and immaculate. No dirt anywhere. Nothing out of place. There was a TV with a DVD player and a cable box and a couple of large couches, a coffee table and thick curtains on every arched doorway and window... ... and nothing else.... except...
Occupying every seat in the house were middle aged men. They were all similarly and neatly dressed in slacks, silk shirts with busy patterns, and various manner of jacket (blazer, leather, addidas jogging, etc.). There were a lot of shirts with the top 3 buttons undone, a fair amount of tan skin covered in dense hair, gold chains, nice watches and more than a few bulges under the left hand side of the shirt.
Nobody smiled, nobody talked. Everybody looked. AWKWARD! I think I'd just discovered the local hangout for the local branch of the Armenian gangsters from Weeds. I just queued up my best set of manners, smiled and went about my business. I was, however, thinking I'd like to leave quickly.
My fears were seemingly confirmed when I got upstairs and it was apparent that the equipment I was to be working on was stolen. One of the computers in the room was having netowrking issues. The young man who let me in had no idea what the password was. It was his sister's and she'd forgotten, he said. I'm fairly certain that nobody in that guys family was named Emily. He had another laptop but had "misplaced" the power adapter and hadn't had a chance to buy a new one. It had a Hannah Montana sticker on it. Again, very unlikely this guy was a Hannah Montana fan. He was extremely worried about security and whether or not anyone could or would be able to view his information or get into his computers. He didn't even want drivers installed unless I could explain how they were both necessary and safe. I cursed myself for even noticing this stuff and promised myself I would never enter another customer home unless my eyes were wide SHUT.
As I was terminating a cable and getting ready to check that I'd fixed the first of the seemingly endless supply of questions he had I heard a cash counter running in the room next door. Those of you who have used one or heard one used you will agree that it is a distinctive sound. Nothing else really sounds like it. I paused when I heard it and the guy I was with excused himself momentarily and went down the hall and shut the door to the room where the cash couter was operating.
At least they were trying to hide what they were up to. Perhaps they were more afraid of me than I was of them. I think the pistols under the jackets testify otherwise.
I just wanted out. I was trying to hurry but every time I though I was done this guy had more questions. This doesn't work. How do I fix that? I don't have the cisco management software; where can I get it? I was in there for an hour and 15 minutes before I finally found my opening.
P.S. I think it worth noting, though not necessarily important to the story, that there were women there as well. They were silent, scarved, and ninja quiet as the floated around changing coasters, bringing drinks, cleaning up, closing and opening drapes, etc.
From time to time, in the course of my job, I find myself in the homes of customers. Sometimes, no matter what we do, we just can't solve a problem without somebody going out there in person. Usually, in such instances, the problem has nothing to do with us but customers don't understand that and with threaten to stop being customers if we don't fix it. I go, and fix it, and show them that it wasn't our problem (every once in a while it acutally is).
Today I went to such a house. It was an old home and not in the greatest neighborhood. Not a scary neighborhood but the sort of neighborhood where there are too many industrial buildings nearby for you to really feel like you'd be safe walking around at night. This appointment, however, was not during night time.
I knocked on the door and a young man answered and invited me in. I walked in and noticed the place was sparsly furnished and immaculate. No dirt anywhere. Nothing out of place. There was a TV with a DVD player and a cable box and a couple of large couches, a coffee table and thick curtains on every arched doorway and window... ... and nothing else.... except...
Occupying every seat in the house were middle aged men. They were all similarly and neatly dressed in slacks, silk shirts with busy patterns, and various manner of jacket (blazer, leather, addidas jogging, etc.). There were a lot of shirts with the top 3 buttons undone, a fair amount of tan skin covered in dense hair, gold chains, nice watches and more than a few bulges under the left hand side of the shirt.
Nobody smiled, nobody talked. Everybody looked. AWKWARD! I think I'd just discovered the local hangout for the local branch of the Armenian gangsters from Weeds. I just queued up my best set of manners, smiled and went about my business. I was, however, thinking I'd like to leave quickly.
My fears were seemingly confirmed when I got upstairs and it was apparent that the equipment I was to be working on was stolen. One of the computers in the room was having netowrking issues. The young man who let me in had no idea what the password was. It was his sister's and she'd forgotten, he said. I'm fairly certain that nobody in that guys family was named Emily. He had another laptop but had "misplaced" the power adapter and hadn't had a chance to buy a new one. It had a Hannah Montana sticker on it. Again, very unlikely this guy was a Hannah Montana fan. He was extremely worried about security and whether or not anyone could or would be able to view his information or get into his computers. He didn't even want drivers installed unless I could explain how they were both necessary and safe. I cursed myself for even noticing this stuff and promised myself I would never enter another customer home unless my eyes were wide SHUT.
As I was terminating a cable and getting ready to check that I'd fixed the first of the seemingly endless supply of questions he had I heard a cash counter running in the room next door. Those of you who have used one or heard one used you will agree that it is a distinctive sound. Nothing else really sounds like it. I paused when I heard it and the guy I was with excused himself momentarily and went down the hall and shut the door to the room where the cash couter was operating.
At least they were trying to hide what they were up to. Perhaps they were more afraid of me than I was of them. I think the pistols under the jackets testify otherwise.
I just wanted out. I was trying to hurry but every time I though I was done this guy had more questions. This doesn't work. How do I fix that? I don't have the cisco management software; where can I get it? I was in there for an hour and 15 minutes before I finally found my opening.
P.S. I think it worth noting, though not necessarily important to the story, that there were women there as well. They were silent, scarved, and ninja quiet as the floated around changing coasters, bringing drinks, cleaning up, closing and opening drapes, etc.
posted by Unknown at 6:17 PM
1 Comments:
Awesome! So if you ever need a new job, you could be the Ohio outfit's IT guy. Sounds like they could use one.
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