Stupid Roommates

Back in my college days, I was a resident assistant in one of the dorms on campus. One of my residents (not the brightest crayon in the box) came to me asking for help as she had been attempting to connect to the Internet with no success. I sat down at her desk, and, noticing that there were only a printer cord and power cord coming out of her computer, I asked if she had an ethernet card and if she had activated her data line.

“Ethernet card? Data line?” she asked. “What’s that?” I took a deep breath and calmly attempted to explain to her how to hook her computer up to a network. I finally told her to take her roommate with her to the on-campus PC store and tell them that she wanted an ethernet card for her computer.

Two hours later, she knocked on my door again and told me that she had gotten the ethernet card, had it installed, and gotten her data line activated, but was still having problems getting online. I went back to her room, and, sure enough, she had the card but still hadn’t plugged it into the data jack.

Me: “So, were you going to plug this in?”

Her: “Well, I got the card. Isn’t that all I need?”

Me: “No, you’ll need some cable to plug it into the data jack.”

Her: “I don’t need to plug it in!”

Me: “Why is that?”

Her: “Don’t you know anything? The Internet isn’t in the wall! It’s all around us!” (waves arms and looks in awe at the ceiling) “You can’t even SEE it! I don’t think you’re as smart as everyone thinks you are if you don’t know that.” (gives me a crusty glare)

Me: “So…how does your computer FIND the Internet without some sort of connection to it?”

Her: “Computers just KNOW this kind of stuff.”

Me: “Your roommate has an ethernet connection through the data jack. The rest of the floor has their computers plugged into our data lines–”

Her: “Well, that’s just because you’re not as in touch with your computers as I am. If you all were good friends with them, they would just take you to the Internet without having to plug them into the phone jacks. You know, I don’t think that’s a very humane thing to do to your computer, and I don’t know that I like such a cruel person touching my stuff.”

I could do nothing but look at her blankly for a few minutes before quickly retreating to the privacy of my room to laugh hysterically. She gave me five minutes before knocking on my door again. I told her if she left me alone with the computer for a while, when she came back, she’d be able to connect. After my many assurances that I wouldn’t do anything “cruel and unusual” to her precious computer, she left the room to go to class. I bought some cabling, plugged everything in, adjusted her settings, and went back to my room to call my brother to tell him the story.

Stupid Customers

I was working tech support for a university when I got this call:

Tech Support: “Hello, tech support.”

Customer: “I am ready to send.”

Tech Support: “What?”

Customer: “I am ready to send.”

Tech Support: “What are you ready to send?”

Customer: “The file I am uploading. I am ready to send.”

Tech Support: “Ooooh-kay…what are you sending?”

Customer: “I am submitting a file to you. I selected ‘upload,’ and it said, ‘Ready to receive, waiting for signal,’ so I called you, giving you my signal, so you can begin getting it.”

Stupid Customers

Customer: “Hi. I’m trying to buy something on the Internet, and the web site wants my credit card.”

Tech Support: “Ok. If your positive it’s a secure connection, and you’re on a reputable dealer’s site, go ahead and enter the numbers.”

Customer: “Well, every time I insert my credit card, nothing happens. Now it’s stuck.”

Tech Support: “What?! Insert your card? What do mean it’s stuck?”

Customer: “It won’t come out of the slot.”

I decided to see exactly what she was talking about. My fears were confirmed when I arrived at her cubicle. She had been trying to slide the card into the floppy drive and managed to push it all the way in. I decided to have fun with her and told her it was being electronically sent over the line to the web site. She stared at me with a look of shock on her face, and said something I’ll never forget: “Is that what they mean by ‘Credit card transactions can take twenty-four hours to process.’?”

Stupid CoWorkers

“Let me start off by identifying the characters (not their real names):Mr. Diva [Dean]Piggy [Office Manager/Executive Asst.]Fat Ass [Administrative Asst. to the Dean]

During my first semester of graduate school, while pursuing my Masters, I decided to take up a part-time job as a Graduate Student Assistant in one of the depts at a university in Northern California. When I first started the job, I had a cubicle all to myself and I thought things were going well. I enjoyed working with everyone (one of the reasons I remained for at least a year). I started out with $10/hr. and I thought it was adequate pay since I never worked before while in school and just wanted to be less financially dependent on my parents so I was cool with getting 10 bucks an hour.

Anyway, as I continued working in the position, they moved me to the Receptionist’s desk, so Fat Ass could have her own cubicle. My duties were to answer the phones and help out students as they came into the office while doing random things. Then Piggy, who is in charge of Fat Ass, started to assign me absurd tasks such as vaccuming Mr. Diva’s office, cleaning vases in the office’s kitchen, and dusting bookshelves. At one point there was a student assistant in the same position as me, who was an undergrad but was getting paid more than me, even though I was there longer. This student assistant, Ariel, would tell Fat Ass “no” when asked to vaccum. Ariel said she was embarrassed that she had to vacuum because she was better than that. I definitely agreed. Well, Ariel lasted 2 months…After Ariel left, they decided to hire another undergrad student assistant (Hope). Hope was also getting paid more than me, and Hope and I used to fume about Fat Ass and Piggy all the time. Piggy started to give us a list of tasks we had to get done by the end of each day as if we were in elementary school. On and off, Piggy and Fat Ass continued to ask us to clean Mr. Diva’s office because when Mr. Diva came back from his international trips, he didn’t like to see dust. What the hell did they think we were? JANITORS!? One day I volunteered to help Piggy with hanging pictures in Mr. Diva’s office, and Piggy told me that Mr. Diva specifically said he wanted everything to be at least 3 feet off the ground. All of a sudden, Mr. Diva became a f**kin’ interior designer overnight. Eventually, Hope had enough too of Piggy’s requests and quit.

I didn’t complain about the salary discrepancy until I was in the position for at least a year and my other coworkers in the office all knew how unhappy I was. My coworkers also didn’t like Piggy and Fat Ass and thought they would always go on a power trip and one of my coworkers pointed out that I was one of the few who have remained in that position for more than a semester. I was pissed with the whole salary discrepancy because here I was about to get my Masters degree and have been in the position longer than all the previous student assistants but getting paid less. At the same time, they were asking me to wash dishes, vaccum, and cleaning the storage room while doing my regular office tasks. My goal wasn’t to be an office bitch and if I had wanted to, then I would have applied to be an office bitch. My coworkers tried to help me to get a raise by giving Piggy and Fat Ass hints, but they weren’t too concerned. I even told Fat Ass directly that I wanted a raise.

Having spent a year in the position, I submitted my resignation letter after Hope quit, basically telling them that I was moving on and I was worth more than 10 f**kin’ bucks an hour. Then Fat Ass and Piggy tried to get me to stay by constantly fawning me. Fatt Ass even had the audacity to ask one of my coworkers why I was leaving and my coworker told her directly that I wasn’t happy with the pay and maybe they should give me one.

After leaving, I continued to keep in contact with several of my former coworkers in the other departments, and they passed on the word to Fat Ass and Piggy that I found a job which almost pays twice as much as my previous crappy hourly wage…while I get a lot of downtime to work on my thesis at work. I feel sorry for all those who would have to eventually cater to Mr. Diva and his two sidekicks. My advice: If you’re ever caught in a position like this, you too should tell them to kiss your ass goodbye”