(no subject)

[wignersfriend.livejournal.com]

( If one more person says it sounds like a case of the Mondays... )

Monday suck

[rev-thumper.livejournal.com]

I have been off the help desk for years but older employees insist on calling me directly and I try to be nice about it...

Me: [standard greeting]
User: Can you get me the password for [suchandsuch] encryption key?
Me: The one all your credit card transaction data is encrypted with?
User: Yea, that one.
Me: No one outside your group is allowed to have access to that.
User: You were here when we created it.
Me: Yes, but I didn't memorize it. Your office is supposed to have a record in a secure place.
User: I know but I am leaving for a new job so I deleted and shredded all my notes when I was cleaning up my workspace.
Me: Well that's going to be a problem...
User: Can't you get the data out anyway?
Me: No, that's sort of the point of encrypting the data.
User: Oh.

...and well, if I could crack 4096 bit PGP keys on demand I would probably be in a different line of work!

Subject of ire: Not a luser, but another tech

[spiker-uk.livejournal.com]

*delurk*

obBackground:  I'm a sysadmin (well, systems manager, but still 100% hands-on and dealing with lusers) at a British university, for their CompSci department. I generally deal with Linux and other *nixen, but can find my way around an Active Directory and a Windows box when I need to.
Sorry for the length, but I'm one pretty pissed off tech right now.

( Read more... )

You'd have washed your hands, too.

[katealaurel.livejournal.com]

I work at a college as a student tech support person (a "T-Watcher", as in Terminal Watcher, from when we called them terminals), and it's end of the year panic time.

SETTING: The computer help desk. An unusually busy Sunday-afternoon shift, with students milling around and panicking.

DRAMATIS PERSONAE:
Kate, a solitary student manning the Computer User Services help desk.
Disheveled Guy, an older student with a disheveled, outgrown beard, ratty blue sweatshirt, and various hemp bracelets.

~~---~~---~~

[Kate, sitting at her computer, looks up as Disheveled Guy approaches rapidly, clutching a dirty iBook.]
Kate: Can I help you?
Disheveled Guy: [mumbles]
Kate: I'm sorry?
[Disheveled Guy opens his mouth, pulls out a spit-covered yellow chew toy, sticks it in his sweatshirt pocket, and wipes his fingers on his sleeve.]
Disheveled Guy: Uh! Yes! I hope so!
[Disheveled Guy scurries around the desk and plunks down his computer. Kate swivels her chair to follow somewhat more warily.]
Disheveled Guy: [opens up his computer, leaving noticeable damp spit marks from his fingers on the trackpad] I, uh, can't connect to the server! I don't know what I'm doing wrong.. uh...
Kate: Yeah, this is actually quite easy to fix-- here, I'll show you.. [Kate walks Disheveled Guy through changing his Appletalk settings, then loads his connection to the student server when he finishes.]
Disheveled Guy: Woah, that was amazing! You're like, a magical T-Watcher!
Kate: if.. you.. say.. so..?
Disheveled Guy: No, seriously, say it, you're a magical T-Watcher!
Kate: Uh... I'm a magical T-Watcher.
Disheveled Guy: [slams his computer shut, jumping up to go] Yes! Thanks! Uh.. bye!
[Disheveled Guy runs off extremely rapidly. Kate watches, rather perplexed, then goes to wash her hands.]

Finis.