The Wild Goose Chase

As with every 'good' IT Nightmare it all started with a phone call.

"IT Support" I answer one cold and icy evening.

A tumult rolls over the airwaves in a heavily accented voice. The guy is talking so fast I cannot understand a word he is saying. I wait for the torrent to end, every syllable merging into the next. I ask for him to repeat himself and it takes a good four attempts to figure out that he is having little issue with his speakers. In other words: No sound. I was wishing my phone was having the same problem.

I try to get him do a few small checks, but another heavy incomprehensible sentence, is the clincher. Armed with cables and a heavy heart I head over there in the cold; head down to the wind and nimbly avoiding the black pools of ice. It was going to be a long night. Turns out this is was going to be a walk in the sun compared to what was coming.

The guy turned out to be an English, Italian teacher. Somewhere along his extensive career he had forgotten his native language and settled for the language of love. That was one mystery solved. The next was the speaker's inability to produce anything other than a loud, ear splitting crackle.

I had just walked into the room when my phone rings. It's a tutor from the other end of the campus demanding I drop everything to go and fix a problem for her. Apparently a student was about to start a test, it wasn't working properly and the world would end if I didn't miraculously snap my fingers, fly over to the classroom and fix it with a wave of my hand.

I explain that I am in the middle of something and I will get over as soon as I can. As expected, this wasn't good enough and I receive a sob story that would have made most people cry in sympathy. I bravely repeat my previous statement without as much as a tear. Maybe I'm hardened to the harsh realities of technological turmoil.
Someone had taken the cable. The cable that connected the PC to the speakers to allow sound from YouTube to be played to a captive audience had been selfishly taken by the last person to use it. To top it all they had taken the connectors from the back of the speakers too. This may not have been on purpose; they just got them free when they ripped the cable out of the back and snapped them off.

The phone rings.

It's the tutor again and she wants to know why I haven't perfected teleportation or the ability to clone myself at will. I explain again, before the hard luck story began again that I was sorting another problem and that I would be there as soon as I could. I noted the room number and tried not to throw my phone against the wall.

I hang up and apologise to the man. I explain to that the speakers are beyond repair and will need to be replaced. Considering that he had to re-design his lesson plan, he took it rather well and I left with only a brief Italian insult trailing in my wake. He wasn't best pleased and in truth I felt sorry for the guy and tried my best to get him into a different room. Unfortunately all were locked up and I still hadn't got very far on my teleport design. After all, it had been a busy night so far.

My phone rings... Guess who..?

I tell the woman I am on the way, I double check the room number and off I go, only slipping once as the dark campus turned rapidly into an ice rink. It took a good five minutes to get to the building, and when I finally knocked on the door and entered I was greeted with a rather stern looking man who was not at all please at having his lesson interrupted.

I explain who I am and that I had had several calls regarding a problem in this room. He shakes his head and everyone else stares as me blankly. I made my apologies and left as soon as I could as the temperature in the room had dropped dramatically, almost matching that outside.

My phone rings: Another stressed call from the invisible woman.

I cut her off mid-flow and I tell her I am standing outside the room and nobody inside knows anything about the fault.

Silence. A first for this woman. Then...

She sheepishly gives me a different room number in another building on the other side of the campus, in the very building where I had been making diplomatic relations with the Italian tutor.

Not happy I make the Arctic trek all that way back and arrive just as my phone starts to remind me to change my ringtone. I hang it up and enter the room.

The tutor inside had her lips pursed accusingly, her hands on her hips as if it was my fault she had given me the wrong room number. I ask her what the problem is.

She points, rather rudely I thought at two of her students who are sitting in one corner. They are huddled up together trying to look small, so that they wouldn't be noticed and I didn't blame them.

"They are missing the X drive." The tutor tells me and turns her back.

I approach the two ladies and ask what the problem is. They are both sitting with their software loaded, in the file --> open windows and flicking through different folders.

At first glance I realise that both of them are already in the "X" drive. I explain that to them and they nod in agreement.

"We just want to know which folder we need to use for this exercise." One of them explains.

I manage to catch the tutor's eye. "They are already in the X drive" I say.

She nods in acknowledgement and walks over to the other end of the room. The two ladies look at me expectantly. Apparently I not only have to keep the equipment running, I also have to teach the lessons too. I tell them that is down to their tutor to show them and hang on to make sure she does.

After five minutes, the woman can avoid it no longer and I manage to call her over and explain again that they already have the drive. There is nothing for me to do and they just need a little help from their teacher. The whole 'Wild Goose Chase:' the calls, the arctic expeditions had all been a complete waste of my time.

She ignores me and pushes past to get to the ladies computers. She shows them which folders and then walks away without a word.

Without so much as thank you for my efforts or an apology for the mix up I once again step out into the cold, wintry night.

The difference between stupidity and genius is that genius has its limits.