One of our own

[duality.livejournal.com]

Years ago, I was a manager for a computer lab at a university. We had four labs in our section of the uni, and each had their own little unique layout. The 24 hour one was in the basement of a women's dorm. Because it had it's own entrance both men and women were allowed to work there and use the lab there. The graveyard shift there was from midnight to 6am, but after about 4am there would be no one in the lab usually but the lab assistant. The desk for the assistants had this really high counter surrounding it except for a little opening on the left, which was mostly blocked from view by a filing cabinet nearby. One of our more shady workers (who we found out later would follow some of our prettier patrons through the 'women only' doors into the actual dorm part) used to work those hours.

One day, I had to come in to cover for someone else who couldn't show up. Because of this, there was a little bit of time between the graveyard guy locking the lab up and me opening everything back up. While I'm straighting everything up at the assistant desk I notice something that my brain immediately pegged as Should Not Be There. Three inch long, curly hairs littered the keyboard. This guy had straight hair on the -top- of his head.

I sat somewhere else until we got another keyboard.