The Problem with being an IT Specialist

After being in the business of IT Support for so many years, I have learnt never to admit to it to people outside of work: Sometimes, not even then.

"Why?" You may ask me.

Well, despite the obvious lull on your social life, once somebody knows that you have superhuman IT skills, you're screwed. Doomed forever to be plagued by never ending computer questions from people who have no idea what they are asking in the first place.

Even worse, when these people discover what you do, they tell others, and before you know it you have an even larger posse contacting you, expecting computer advice, and fixes for free. People you have never even met. Even worse, you get calls out of the blue from people you haven't spoken to in years, people who have never spoken to you before, or strangers in the street; pretending they are your new best friend. Just so you can solve their Internet connection problems, and supply them with the latest software.

Over the years I have had friends of friends get in touch with family members to see if 'he can pop 'round and fix my laptop'. As it will save them a few bob and even less effort.

For close friends and family, I don't mind helping them out with advice or technical support, but when it's someone you barely know or haven't seen in a gazillion years, I tend to get a little bit ticked off.

I learnt a long time ago that once you have fixed a computer for one of these people, one of two things usually happens:

1. If anything goes wrong with that PC again, it's YOUR fault. It can be two days, ten months or ten years and three computers later. But if their background wallpaper changes from their cute family snaps to a picture of Justin Bieber, you are to blame and must fix it before the user self-destructs.

Note: If Justin Bieber appeared on my computer, I too would want to hunt down and punish the person responsible, but still, it is no excuse.

2. You are now their own personal support hot line: Morning, noon, night, when you're working late or sick in bed with the flu, it becomes you responsibility to fix every niggling problem that crops up on theirs, their partners, their friends, or even their dogs computer; immediately. They can't set the screensaver; you have to do it for them. They lose a file; you have to find it. Their email stops functioning; you have to fix it. They get a virus from opening too much porn; you have to remove it (but don't tell the wife).

And they won't be told either. They fail to follow even the most simple of instructions, they haven't got a clue, but they know best:

For instance, they get a virus from opening an attachment: One of several dozen from the same contact. You know the contact I mean: The ones that are the bane of the email world. Commonly known as spammers, they have to forward every chain email, every joke, and every collection of naughty pictures that comes their way. Emails that have been around the world a few dozen times, been in hundreds of users mail boxes and look nothing like the original message by the time your new best friend has received it.

You fix the problem, remove the virus, delete the messages, and explain over and over again the cause of it. You explain the dangers of opening these emails, and the attachments of such messages, and how they should be avoided wherever possible. Your new best friend nods, agrees, and assures you he understands...

Until a week later, it all happens again, because his contact has sent him his latest collection of naked ladies: Just too irresistible not to ogle.

You may think I come across as uncaring or unhelpful, in truth I sympathise with these people, they don't understand IT (why should they? It's not their field), and they don't always know where to turn. They are afraid of paying over the odds to a professional for a simple fix, I can understand that too. It still doesn't mean they can call me out of the blue, and expect free IT support, and then ignore my advice. A little common sense and some old-fashioned courtesy would not go amiss here.

One day my home phone rings. As it was passed to me I was told it was an old tutor of mine. I frown, confused. Why the hell was this person ringing me? I had had no contact with them for the past five years.

Disaster has struck, their computer has crashed. Out of the goodness of my heart, I do my very best to try and help them out. But they don't try to help themselves. They seemed to think I can see their screen by looking down the phone line.

"What error have you got on the screen?" I ask.

"Oh, something about it not functioning." I am told.

"What's not functioning?" I ask.

"The whole damn thing."

"OK, what were you doing when it crashed?"

"I was on the Internet"

"Then the error came up?"

"Yes"

"It just appeared?"

"Yes, well only when I clicked a button."

"Which button?"

"That one in the corner."

I realise that I am not going get the answer I require, so I move on:

"What does the error say?"

"Oh I don't know. I don't really understand it."

"That's fine, but could you read it out to me please?"

"No!"

"Why not?"

"It's not there anymore."

"You cleared it?"

"Yes."

"Did it come back?"

"No"

"Can you try and recreate what you were doing before it crashed?"

"No."

"Why is that?"

"'Cos I switched the computer off, when it said I was doing something illegal."

Double face palm!!!

I get them to reboot the computer, and try again, and all is well. Turns out that Windows had just had one of its funny turns and displayed the famous, old school 'windows has performed an illegal operation' error, and it had scared the bejesus out of them. This would not be the last time they called me, now I have helped them once, I was destined to help them forever more.

Then you get the inappropriate users:

One day I was in a supermarket, all of a sudden their is a jab on my shoulder, and a man I knew from work was standing with his hands on his hips, his nose in the air and annoyed expression on his face as his wife attempted to maneuver her trolley around the corner. I greeted him politely and made to escape his clutches, no such luck.

"My laptop has been playing up and I need to be able to do some work over the weekend at home." He tells me in one quick demanding blast.

"Ok" I think. "I'm standing here in the frozen food section of a supermarket, out of hours, without the offending laptop and no information. What would you like me to do?"

What I actually say is. "Sorry to hear that, bring it in on Monday and one of us will take a look at it for you." I leave him standing, red in the face next to the frozen beef burgers.

Quite recently, one dark evening I was leaving the gym after a rather hard work out. I was tired and running late. My engine running, my stereo on full blast, I was set ready to go when...

Tap, tap, tap!

I look up and there is a guy tapping his finger on my window screen mouthing "can I have a word?" through the glass. Is there no escape? I was lucky that he didn't hang off of my bonnet as I drove through the car park, until I agreed to sort his problems out.

No matter who it is though, I always get the fatal question at the end: "So, what was wrong with it?"

You know full well that if you tell them, you'll get a blank look and a round of "Whoa there, that went right over my head. I am not technical you know!" No s#@t!

Why ask then? If it is so far over your head, maybe you should forget computers and become a limbo dancer instead.

And so it goes on. I no longer partake in personal jobs such as these if I can help it, unless it is close family. I get these issues all week at work; I don't need it during my time off as well.

It doesn't stop people in the know from contacting me though, so, I have bought myself a new t shirt!

This should do the trick!