So I'm working so hard I barely have time to drive into town
and watch a movie before I told people their printing will be ready. The
queue's WAAAAY too long to have everything printed (and sorted) by the time I
told them, so I kill all the small jobs so there's only 2 left and I can sort
them in no time.
Then, after the movie, (which was one of those slack
Bertolucci ones that takes about 3 hours till the main character is killed off
in a visionary experience) I get back and clear the printouts.
There's about 50 people waiting outside and I've got two
printouts. That's about average for me. I thought I'd killed more tho. Anyway,
I put out the printouts and walk slooowly inside, fingering the clipboard with
"ACCOUNTS TO REMOVE" in big letters on the back. No-one says
anything. As usual.
. . .
I'm sitting back in the Operations Armchair, watching the
computer room closed circuit TV, which just happens to be connected to the
frame-grabber's Video player (sent off for repair, due back sometime in '94)
when the phone rings. That must be the 2nd time today, and it's really
starting to get to me!
"Yes?" I say, pausing the picture.
"I've accidentally deleted my C.V!" the voice at the
other end of the line says.
"You have? What was your username?"
He tells me. What the hell, I AM bored.
"Ah no, you didn't delete it - I did."
"What?"
"I deleted it. It was full of shit! You didn't ever get
more than a B- in any of your subjects!"
"Huh?"
"And that crap about being a foreign exchange student,
that was your girlfriend and we both know it."
"Huh?!!"
"Your academic records. I checked them, you were
lying.."
"How did y.." He clicks. "It's you isn't it?
THE BASTARD OPERATOR FROM HELL!"
"In the flesh, on the phone and in your account.... You
shouldn't have called you know. You especially shouldn't have given me your
username.." *clickety* *click* "Neither should you have sent that
mail to the System Manager telling him what you think of him in graphic
terms..."
"I didn't send any.."
*clickety click*......
"No, you didn't did you? But who can tell these days. Not
to worry though, It'll all be over VERY soon.." *clickety click*
"..change my username back, and..."
"b-b-b.." he blubs, like a stood-up date
"Goodbye now" I say pleasantly, "you've got
bags to pack and a life to start over..."
I hang up.
Two seconds later the red phone goes off. I pick it up, it's
the boss. He mumbles the username of the person I was just talking to,
mentions something about a nasty mail message, and utters the words "You
know what to do...", with the dots and everything.
Later, inside the Municipal Energy Authority Computer, as I'm
modifying the poor pleb's Energy Bill by several zeros, I can't help but think
about what lapse of judgement - what act of heinous stupidity causes them to
call. Then, even later, when I'm adding the poor pleb's photo image over the
top of the FBI's online "MOST Wanted Armed and Dangerous, SHOOT ON
SIGHT" offenders list, I realise, I'll probably never know; but life goes
on.
A couple of hours later, as I see the SWAT vehicle roll up
outside the poor pleb's apartment I realise that for some, it just doesn't.
But tomorrow is another day.
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