Friday, June 17, 2005

Save the Mailroom

So not only do we do regular checks to fix printers, but we also get random phone calls from the 'Temporary Mail Room' to fix THEIR printers and computers as well.

"Boy they are a bunch of special people out there,” Chris said one day with a roll of his eyes.

So today, I received a phone call from that 'special mail room', and this is how it went:

"Residential Computing this is Jillian..."

"Please help us!" A man with a high-pitched voice yells into the phone. I can tell immediately that I am on speaker phone.

"What? Sir, what is the problem?" I say, grabbing a pen and my pad of paper.

"Stupid printer!"

"You have a printer problem?"

"Noooo, this computer is what is the problem! It is blank!"

"You mean as in a blank screen...?" I say, becoming more confused by the minute.

"Yeah! The whole thing, gone!"

"Is there a wire unplugged Sir?" (They aren't very bright...)

"No, can you guys come over here?"

At this point I am already mentally scrolling through the possible choices I have. At this point, anything to get away from the office sounds good to me.

"Okay, I'll be out there in a sec."

About 5 minutes later I'm standing in front of the mail room door, which used to be the practice room in my old hall.

"Oh thank you for coming!" The girlish-voice guy I had talked to says as I fling open the door.

"Er, no problem,” I say, smiling at his slight homosexuality. I watch as he bounces over to the computer, his cute hair flopping in the wind.

"I just...don't understand what the problem is!" He says exasperatedly, and I watch as he fixes his hair in the reflection of the computer monitor.

Smiling, I walk over to where he sits.

"Okay, so is it your computer or the printer?" I say, turning on the computer. It seems to boot up fine...

"Well, you fixed that problem," He says, looking at me like I'm a God.

I look at him with apprehension, wanting to know what else I could 'fix'. These people really know nothing about computers.

I crawl underneath, where the hub lies. I see that the cord must have accidentally been knocked loose, and I plug it back in.

"Hey, it works!" I hear the guy squeal with delight. I get out of the dark, dust-infested chamber known as 'underneath the desk' only to find him happily continuing his work.

At this point I have a wistful daydream involving this man's head and the computer monitor in front of him...

Restraining myself from making my daydream come true, I start walking to the door.

"Thank you so much!" He says, dragging a mail container towards him, filled with Playboy’s and Sports Illustrated.

"No problem,” I say, wondering vaguely what I would have to put in our ‘Problem Log’ for this entry.