My boss at Company X is teaching a university class this semester, because, I can only assume, he has decided that sleep is for the weak. Naturally it is my job to smooth his way through the bureaucratic nightmare, me having had so much experience working in the nightmare itself, which led to the following conversation:
“Stanford Tech Support.”
“Hi, I’m working for tempory faculty member X, he’s teaching a class this semester and he needs a login ID for your faculty site, so if–”
“Wait, too fast.”
“Ok, sorry. My boss is–”
“What’s his name?”
“Mar–”
“Spell it.”
[I spell it.]
[Irritated sigh.] “I need you to spell it slower.”
[I spell it slower.]
“Ok, hang on. I’m looking him up.” [Long silence, punctuated by frequent sighing.]
“So…do you sort of hate your job?”
[Angrily] “What?”
“You just seem kinda…angry.”
[Long pause. Irritated sigh.]
“Well, what if you tried–”
“Ok, he isn’t in the system. You need to give me your information again. And I need your name and phone number this time.”
“Ok, I–”
“Slowly.”
“Ok, I–”
“And then you’re gonna need someone with financial authority to set this up for you.”
“So you–”
“I can’t do it.”
“So why do you need my information, again?”
“I need to log the call.”
[Pause. Defeated.] “Ok. My name is–”
“Slowly.”
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