One from today!
At the office, Beth has a well-deserved reputation for being computer illiterate. Within her first week, she managed to not only crash her computer about a dozen times, but jam up the printer a few times as well.
This morning, I got to work very quickly. Traffic was light--no school buses, no crackheads, no annoyances to deal with--meant I got to work about a half-hour early. Normally, I'd head down to the tracks to see if anything interesting was coming up the line. Not this morning, since it was about 35F and still dark.
I'm at my desk, flipping through an issue of Classic & SportsCar, when she walks in. I hear her computer fire up, and then she starts bitching about how it's not booting. Don't know if she's killed it, so it gets restarted a couple of times. Crashes again, so I swap it out for another.
About an hour later, she starts whining about how the new one is having issues. "Issues," because it's trying to install drivers (I'd set it up at my workbench, which has shitty monitors and old keyboards and mice), but is otherwise behaving itself. Since nothing is wrong, I ignore her, and go back to my morning routine.
After I got a couple of things done, I brought her computer over to my area, fired it up...and really didn't do anything else to it. I let it slip that there was nothing wrong with it, and she flipped. She went on a rant about how I "did something to it, refused to tell her what I did, and how there was more to the story..." There was no way I could have simply carried it across the room, plugged it in, and turned it on. Yet, that's exactly what I did
Bitch, if I was a fucking wizard, do you really think I'd be working here
At the office, Beth has a well-deserved reputation for being computer illiterate. Within her first week, she managed to not only crash her computer about a dozen times, but jam up the printer a few times as well.
This morning, I got to work very quickly. Traffic was light--no school buses, no crackheads, no annoyances to deal with--meant I got to work about a half-hour early. Normally, I'd head down to the tracks to see if anything interesting was coming up the line. Not this morning, since it was about 35F and still dark.
I'm at my desk, flipping through an issue of Classic & SportsCar, when she walks in. I hear her computer fire up, and then she starts bitching about how it's not booting. Don't know if she's killed it, so it gets restarted a couple of times. Crashes again, so I swap it out for another.
About an hour later, she starts whining about how the new one is having issues. "Issues," because it's trying to install drivers (I'd set it up at my workbench, which has shitty monitors and old keyboards and mice), but is otherwise behaving itself. Since nothing is wrong, I ignore her, and go back to my morning routine.
After I got a couple of things done, I brought her computer over to my area, fired it up...and really didn't do anything else to it. I let it slip that there was nothing wrong with it, and she flipped. She went on a rant about how I "did something to it, refused to tell her what I did, and how there was more to the story..." There was no way I could have simply carried it across the room, plugged it in, and turned it on. Yet, that's exactly what I did

Bitch, if I was a fucking wizard, do you really think I'd be working here


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