It was a cold and dreary Friday. I was sitting in my office, counting down the minutes until I could close up shop for the weekend. Twitter was slow, and my coworkers had already left for home. The place was quiet, like a college campus on eve of a week long break. A fitting description, since thats where I was. A college campus on the eve of a week long break. The students had left, the professors had gone home, the administration took the afternoon off. It was just me and the clock, having a staring match, and the clock was winning.
That’s when she showed up. She burst through the door with a look of panic on her face. That’s usually how people look when they come to my door. No one ever stops by when something goes right. My job is to fix problems and when people have problems, they come to me.
The young woman quickly sat down in the chair opposite my desk, hidden entirely behind the large dysfunctional iMac which was currently occupying more room than it was willing to pay for. I pushed it to the side so I could clearly see my visitor.
She was dressed plainly, ready for break. She was tall and slender, with hair that ran down her back in perfectly straight lines. Her expression was one that didn’t belong on a face meant to be so beautiful or perfect. It was that of despair mixed with terror. Fallen on tough times, and right before a week of vacation too. I felt sorry for her, despite the fact that I she’d probably spend the next seven days in some exotic location while I sat in my office waiting for disaster to strike.
Nervously she glanced at my empty M&M jar. The students had been hard on the chocolate this week. The last handful had been snagged a few days ago.
I waited patiently for my visitor to speak. She had rushed in and sat down without a word, I wasn’t about to interrupt the silence for an unnecessary greeting.
“I heard…” she started softly, “I heard you might be able to help me.”
“I’ve been known to fix a few problems.” I replied cautiously.
“It’s my laptop,” she blurted. “I think… I think… it’s dead…”
She quickly wiped tears from her eyes with a kleenex.
“I can take a look at it,” I said slowly.
A good case was what I needed right now. Something to occupy the time between now and when I could go home and relax, forgetting the trouble of the day in a movie or a game.
From her backpack she produced the laptop. I carefully set it on the desk. It looked as though it had been through a few skirmishes. The lid was scratched and half peeled stickers indicated it had seen some use. I cautiously opened the lid to discover a keyboard that was missing a few keys and screen that contained a large scratch. The remains of a coffee cup stain lingered to the right of the trackpad.
I glanced up at the young woman. She knew how to take car of herself, pretty face, well combed hair, matching outfit. She apparently knew nothing about computers. Or perhaps, she didn’t care.
Observing the damage, I pressed the power button. The fans powered up and the hard drive whirred. The girls face turned from sorrow to timid expectancy to surprise when the Windows chime filled the room.
“It works!” She exclaimed. “It works! Thank you so much! You’re my hero!”
I nodded silently.
She pulled the computer off the desk and began to quickly click and type. Within a minute she was completely engrossed in her technology.
I glanced at the clock, 4:58. It was time to go. I slowly stood up and grabbed my jacket. The clatter of keys providing the background to my existence. Throwing my jacket over my shoulder I left the room, the building, the school. It was the weekend.
In a small office in the back of a well lit building on the unfashionable end of a brand new campus located on the remains of a non-existent and ancient civilization there is a man trying to find the answers to life’s persistent technology. – IT Guy Noir