This is the story of a phycotic Sys Op working in "a" company
( and yes im spamming )
The Bastard Operator from Hell is back ...
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So I'm in my office again, reconfiguring the router when the phone rings. Somehow I knew this was going to happen. I'm obviously going to have to change my number (and Operator) YET AGAIN.
I pick it up.
"Start talking."
"Is this the network engineer?"
Sigh.
"Yes it is," I say, resigned to my fate.
I check the phone - there's no corresponding name on caller ID, which can only mean one thing.
"You're new here aren't you?" I ask.
"Yeah, how did you know?"
"Lucky guess. Tell me, how did you get my number?"
"Oh, I just called the helpdesk."
How helpful of them..
"Anyway, I was just ringing to tell you that you've got a problem with the network."
"No," I answer, "no problems here."
"You do have a problem - I can't get my PC to work."
"Let's just look at this logically," I say. "You can't get your PC to work, so I have a problem."
"With the network, yes. It's probably a loose connector somewhere."
Of all the things that REALLY piss me off, the 'loose connector' and 'loose wire' theories TOP the queue. He obviously thinks that my day consists of sitting in a comms room somewhere 'wiggling loose wires' to improve network services. Or that I designed the network by calling up a cable supplier and ordering several drums of CAT-5 and asking for it to be "scattered about the building in a spider web shape".
Next thing I know he'll be telling me that maybe one of the 'bulbs' burnt out on my FDDI ring.
"Hey, maybe one of the bulbs.."
A little knowledge is a dangerous thing.
"No, it's not that! You've kicked out your patch cable," I say.
"I can't have!" he backpeddles.
"You've kicked out your patch cable."
"No, all the wires are securely plugged into the back of my PC..."
"You've kicked out your patch cable."
"...and they all go to the box in the flo.. Oh, hey! I kicked out the patch cable!"
"Of course you did. It happens all the time. It's because the twisted pairs in your cable get tangled, shortening the effective length of the cable. It's just like the telephone cord when it gets tangled."
"Oh right! I think I read something about that.." he burbles. What a plonker.
"Is there anything I can do to stop it?"
"Well, all you need to do is unplug it from the floor socket and give the cable a really really hard yank. Then all the twisted pairs come into line."
"But won't that damage my machine?"
"Heck no! The connector at the other end is made to pop out when the strain might damage the cable!"
"OK, here goes..."
CRASH!!
"HEY! I PULLED MY MACHINE ONTO THE FLOOR AND A BOARD'S RIPPED OUT OF THE BACK OF IT!"
"Oh well, you obviously pulled too hard," I say calmly.
"WHAT AM I GOING TO DO? IT'S MY FIRST DAY!"
"I don't know," I reply. "It sounds to me like a hardware problem. I'm just a network engineer.."
"But..."
I hang up. It's time to have stern words with the helpdesk. First step, into the comms room to 'wiggle their wires around' and drop out their network. Step two, set their call-forwarding so all their calls go through to the boss.
I pick a floor at random and remote boot both the main and redundant routers.
REQUEST LINES ARE NOW OPEN!
Scant seconds later I hear the boss's phone ringing. I'll give the boss about 10 minutes of irate users, then wander round and suggest the helpdesk staff need a lesson on what's funny and what's not. Forwarding your phone to the boss at network failure ISN'T funny. Helpdesk personnel investigating the job market IS.
My thoughts are interrupted by a call on the Red 'Bat' Phone. It's obviously the boss.
"Is this the network engineer?"
"It certainly is, how can I be of help?" I crawl.
"Ah, you've got a problem with your network."
"Have we?" (grease grease).
"Yeah, I guess it's probably a loose wire somewhere.."
Sigh.
He'll have to go..
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The Bastard trips up ...
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"So what you're saying is that the network is wide open to hackers?" the boss asks.
The department Brown-Nose nods. I, however, shake my head.
Guess who he believes?
"Well, what have you been doing about these security holes?" asks the boss, now more than a little concerned.
"Ah..."
I consider the topic carefully for almost a nano-second prior to providing my answer.
"Not a thing."
"But our network is wide open. The security implications are horrendous!"
"That is correct," I say. "My much maligned co-'worker' has hit the nail right on the side with his diagnosis of our situation, which I will now attempt to summarise.
"In the unlikely even that someone manages to pick both the seven-pin tumbler locks on one of the comms room doors, bypass the alarm systems and security cameras, then open the locked FDDI cage, or alternatively, smash their way through six inches of reinforced concrete piping buried four feet under a busy suburban road, then tap into our fibre-optic cable without us knowing...then yes, we are wide open.
"However, if as I surmise this is a thinly disguised ploy by the departmental Brown-Nose to edge his way one rung up the perk ladder into a trip to look at new security software, then I believe that our exposure to danger is somewhat overstated."
"Did you say trip?" the boss asks, eyes gleaming.
EVERY TIME A COCONUT!
"Yes," Brown-Nose chips in innocently. "Just to a manufacturer in the US who has some software to quadrupally encrypt data streams while retaining data integrity and not impacting bandwidth."
Of course, as soon as the word 'US' pops up the boss has visions of himself overseeing the 'evaluation' procedure at a convenient beach, staying at the nearest resort because of its central placing.
Right.
Brown-Nose smirks as his dreams of a holiday on the company come to full fruition.
It seems almost a crime to take his dreams and strike them with the iron bar of reality, but network engineering is a dirty job...
"Well, that really does sound like a good idea. However, I believe that there is some quintupally encrypting software with a manufacturer who is presently on a six-week tour of the States that I'd already lined-up a meeting with."
To add to the impact of my statement, I flash a sheet of paper with impressive writing and letterhead as proof. They are not to know that it is in fact from my lawyer who is attempting to defend me from some libellous allegations of an illegal wiretap at my previous workplace (a sordid blackmail allegation completely fabricated by some other employees who were jealous of my six figure salary and my five minute working day).
Flashing the paper at this stage is of course unnecessary, as the boss wants to believe this...
I tip him the 'junket-nod' with:
"Hopefully we'll be able to catch up with them as they had booking problems and had to review their venues and dates."
Now the boss has carte blanche at junket level. His two options are either he goes with Brown-Nose to the States for a brief holiday with a small amount of technical content, or he goes to the States with me, expenses-paid for five weeks, never quite catching the manufacturer, returning home empty handed and still needing to find some encryption software (in other words, up for another junket), no technical content, with the minor danger of alcoholic poisoning.
Choose the first option and Brown-Nose will wilt under their respective inspections.
The Boss smiles. I smile. We both smile.
Brown-Nose sobs - he knows what's on the cards.
"Of course," I say "we don't really want to muddy the waters of purchasing and spread ourselves too thinly in researching this. A small team to concentrate on the hardware should do."
Engage cover-up plan.
"Yes," the boss concurs knowingly, ".. too many cooks and all that. Some technical reshuffle seems called for... I hear there's an opening for a technical consultant in our site maintenance division in Hartlepool."
Tears well up in Brown-Nose's eyes as he contemplates his next five years of gardening and rubbish bin emptying...
"That will do nicely sir. Book the tickets now?"
I try not to think of it as spite, just seeing the job through to completion.
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The Bastard gives advice ...
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I'm preparing for a six-week US junket on the company with the boss to look at new comms gear. This means I'm going to have to take on someone to do my job while I'm away.
The ex-office brown-nose applied for the position, but unfortunately he was late for his interview when the lift in which he was a passenger mysteriously blew a control breaker. A pity they didn't discover him till after the weekend, by which time he was a drooling vegetable. It all adds fuel to my argument that I require a larger 'miscellaneous' budget to employ part-time staff to check things like lift emergency telephones and alarm switches.
As far as the job went, within a couple of days I have a 'green and keen' contractor occupying the spare desk. Now to teach him the ropes...
"OK quick outline, we look after every communications entity in the building. And they all belong to me. Not the user. Me. Remember that, it's important!"
"They belong to you." he repeats
"No, never say that. Always say, they belong to 'ME'. You don't want to give the users the idea that comms is something they should get involved in."
"They belong to me. So we look after phones as well?"
"Phones, fire and intruder alarms, intercoms, networks, microwave link, miscellaneous control systems; hell, if they bought semaphore flags we'd probably be looking after them," I say, pointing out the respective chapters in my site management bible.
"How do you get away with it?" he asks.
"Simple. I apply the basic rule of standardisation. Everything gets done in a standard way, and no-one but me knows anything about it."
"It's all in your head?..."
"No, no. It's all copiously documented in that safe over there," I reply, indicating a large armageddon-proof box in the corner.
"Who has access to it?"
"Me."
"And your boss..?"
"He has a key that he likes to think will open it. In actual fact, it's a duplicate of the key to the CEO's wine safe in the basement."
"Does the boss know?"
"How could he. He's not allowed in either area."
"He's not allowed in here?"
"Of course not. He's management and this is a sensitive area. Standardisation, remember. Just mention to the CEO that we have phone-tap equipment and you get a fat security budget to play with."
"Aren't you worried the boss will find out about the key?" my employee asks.
"Not as worried as he'd be when I mention informing the CEO about it. There's been a surprising amount of pilfering going on. It wouldn't look good on his permanent record when he went looking for his next job..."
"What a tragedy. Okay, I've got all that, what do I do?"
"Nothing, I've done it all. Familiarise yourself with the site management bible. It'll tell you all the major problems that could befall us, what to do and who to contact. See that phone on your desk - don't ever answer it, it'll just be some user who's moved his machine and expects the data-sockets to be live."
"That's it?"
"Like I said, it's mostly in the site bible. Oh, remember to put the voice recorder tapes into the fireproof back-up safe!"
"That's in case we have a verbal contract disagreement?"
"No, that's so I can listen to the boss's personal phone calls. Honestly, it's better than 'Days of Our Lives'. Also, never mention the name 'Pooky' or he'll know I'm onto him."
"OK, what if the helpdesk corners me?"
"Hmmm. Well, as I haven't introduced you to them, you've got a week's grace. After that, use the excuse that you can't accept helpdesk calls until you have a username to receive the email so that the process can be tracked by me when I return. That'll buy you another couple of days. Add two more days for documentation on paper and then you might squeeze yet another week or two out if you use the old routine 'log a fault call' - preferably on some ancient noticeboard using the tried and trusted postcard method. Remember to make some number up and write it on the incident board as 'proof'. When you can't delay any more, use the network monitor to drop the CEO's data ports. He has priority and you can kill at least a day 'isolating the failure'."
"What happens if the CEO corners me?"
"Play it safe and brown-nose. Get him a coffee and take him on a tour of the central comms room. When he's mesmerised by the flashing lights, nudge his arm when you open a cabinet door so that the coffee spills through the floor tiles. The master breaker will pop so fast he won't even have time to say 'woopsy'. After that, no-one's going to complain about anything. Got all that?"
"Sorted!"
"Right, get to work."
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Lets see the reaction
Sat May 10, 2003 2:08 am 
