The Tech Support Guy

Ever Fixed A Computer . . . On Weed, Man?

2006-04-06T08:25:00.000-07:00

I have written about some unusual happenings and some crazy characters on this blog. After several years in this industry, I've got some great stories to tell. But a guy who came into the office today is, hands down, the winner of my Craziest Person on Earth contest.

A man came through the front door today, and before I looked up from my computer I could smell him. I would guess he hadn't showered in at least a week. He had long, stringy hair and he was so skinny that his clothes draped off his body and looked about five sizes too big. He walked with a stumbling gait, and when he sat down at my desk he plopped into the chair with such force I was worried the legs would break and he would end up on my floor.

"Wassupman?" he said, somehow managing to slur his words and speak quickly at the same time.

"Not much," I replied, "What can I do for you today?" I subtly tried to cover my nose with my hand to block out the stench.

The man leaned over my desk until his face was mere inches from mine. The smell was overpowering. "You wanna buy some weed, dude?" he whispered confidentially.

I stared at him for a full ten seconds, not knowing what to say.

"Excuse me?" I finally managed.

"Some weed. You wanna buy some?"

"Um . . . this is a place of business."

"Come on bro, this is a computer store, you prolly sit around on the computer playing games and smoking weed all day."

"No, I don't," I replied firmly. "I do not play games all day. I do not smoke weed at all. Please leave this office at once or I'll be forced to call the cops."

"Take it easy dude, all you gotta do is say no." The man stumbled out of my chair and out the front door. I watched him shuffle across the street and into the building next door to us - probably to try to sell his wares there - before I picked up the phone and called the cops.

A note to all pot-sellers: if you insist on going door-to-door trying to find a buyer, make sure you don't reek so bad that your potential customers are already getting a garbage-based high.

Mom's Hilarity

2006-03-29T08:37:00.000-08:00

Dear Tech Support:

Last year I upgraded from Boyfriend 5.0 to Husband 1.0 and noticeda slowdown in the overall performance, particularly in the flowerand jewelry applications that had operated flawlessly under Boyfriend 5.0. In addition, Husband 1.0 un-installed many other valuable programs, such as Romance 9.5 and Personal Attention 6.5, but installed undesirable programs such as NFL 5.0 and NBA 3.0. And now Conversation 8.0 no longer runs and House Cleaning 2.6 simply crashes the system. I've tried running Nagging 5.3 to fix these problems, but to no avail. What can I do?

Signed,
Desperate

Dear Desperate:
First keep in mind, Boyfriend 5.0 is an entertainment package, while Husband 1.0 is an operating system. At the command line, try entering C:ITHOUGHTYOULOVEDME and download Tears 6.2 to install Guilt3.0. If all works as designed, Husband 1.0 should then automaticallyrun the applications Jewelry 2.0 and Flowers 3.5. But remember, overuse can cause Husband 1.0 to default to GrumpySilence 2.5, HappyHour 7.0 orBeer 6.1. Beer 6.1 is a very bad program that will create SnoringLoudly.wav files. Whatever you do, DO NOT install Mother-in-Law 1.0 or re-install another Boyfriend program. These are not supported applications and will crash Husband 1.0.

In summary, Husband 1.0 is a great program, but it does have a limited memory and cannot learn new applications quickly. You might consider additional software to improve memory and performance. I personally recommend Hot Food 3.0 and Lingerie 6.9.

Good luck,
Tech Support

Not On Call

2006-03-23T12:06:00.000-08:00

Why is it that as soon as a person finds out I'm in the computer industry, they immediately have to talk to me about a problem they're having with their machine?

"What do you do for a living?"

"I repair computers."

"Oh, you wouldn't believe the trouble I've been having with my computer! Every time I try to open Solitaire . . ."

And so it goes. The only time I ever hear from my father anymore is when his computer is broken. He'll call at all hours of the night, too. I'm 24-hour tech support for my family when such disastrous issues arise, such as the inability to download streaming video of a man farting in a hot tub at 3:00 in the morning.

Since technical support is the only industry I've ever worked in, I don't know if other professions experience similar attitudes. For example, if you tell someone you're a lawyer do they immediately ask you for legal advice? If you're a doctor, do they start describing their aches and pains and ask for a prescription right in the middle of the supermarket?

What if you're a garbage collector. Would a person say to you "Oh my goodness, I've got this huge pile of trash in my front yard; would you mind coming to pick it up?"

Or a pizza delivery person. "I'm craving pizza so bad, do you think you could go pick me up a double pepperoni and cheese and come back with it?

I just wish everyone would understand that, just like their professions, I don't want to think about mine outside of the office. I'm there for nine to ten hours a day, and I'll be happy to help anyone who needs it. All I ask is that you let me have the other 14 hours a day in peace without doing across-the-frozen-foods-section tech support.

Sense of Entitlement

2006-03-15T10:45:00.000-08:00

Computer technical support can be quite expensive. My standard rate for most repairs is $65 an hour, and often it's much higher depending on the type of service requested. House calls are far more expensive. The parts I use are marked up heavily in price, and I will routinely make upwards of $300 per customer. This is a lucrative business, and people pay these exhorbitant amounts for two reasons: one is that they want quality service, knowing the work will be done correctly. The other reason is that many of them believe they are unable to live happy lives if they can't check their e-mail every five minutes.

Because of the expense, some clients feel a certain sense of entitlement when it comes to their computers. They think that since they're paying so much money, their "quality service" should also be "rapid service" and don't understand that my next three weeks are booked solid with people waiting in line to pay me $300 a pop to fix their computer problems. It's just the way of the world - I can fix any issue you're having (with your computer) but it's going to cost you both money as well as time.

I like to think I'm a very patient person, but one thing I am zero patience with is people who believe that, because they're throwing money around, that gives them any higher priority than anyone else, especially at my company, where everybody gets charged the same.

I preface this tale with all of this information so that you will better understand my anger at this client.

The client in question - who I will refer to as Adolf - came into my office and cut in front of about three or four people in line at my desk. Banging his hands on the edge of my desk, he got his face as close to mine as possible - I could tell the flavor of his breath mint (whiskey-flavored would be my guess) - and roared "You need to fix my computer!"

I looked up in shock, but quickly regained my composure. "Yes sir, I'll be happy to take a look at it, but as you can see there are four other people in line before you. If you'll just wait at the end of the line, I'll be with you as soon as I can."

The man pulls out his wallet and sets $100 bill on the table. "How about now? Can I go to the head of the class?" he asks sarcastically.

"No sir," I answer blandly, ignoring the money on the table, "Now please get in line behind everyone else and wait your turn."

The man adds two more $100 bills from his wallet to the table. "I'm in quite a hurry," he says, staring at me intensely.

"It's not a question of money, sir" I say, not believing that Adolf is doing this in front of the other clients, "It's a question of time. And these people were here before you. If you'd like to wait in line, you're welcome to do so, otherwise you can come back later."

The man's face turns red as he scoops his money off the table. I get the impression that he's been rich his entire life and is used to money solving his inconveniences for him.

"Young man, you are going to get out to my home right now and fix my computer. I'm leaving for Europe in ten minutes and I need my computer fixed!"

I let this hang in the air for a moment.

"You'll be taking your computer with you, then?" I ask.

"No, I'm not taking that thing with me, but I need to check my e-mail before I go and I'm leaving in ten minutes!"

"I'm sorry sir," I say, not feeling sorry at all, "But you'll just have to wait until you get back. Even if I didn't have people in front of you in line, it would take me 10 minutes just to get out there."

The man storms out, probably to one of our competitors, where he'll most likely hear the same thing. If he really is leaving for Europe in 10 minutes, I think he might miss his flight.

What is it about money that makes people think their time is more important than anyone else's? It's too bad that you can't buy manners. And how did this make the other people in line feel? To have someone try to buy their way in front of the, basically saying "My time is more important than your's, and it's because I have money and you don't."

I can see why some techs might be swayed by the idea of netting a non-taxable $300 just for letting a guy cut in line, but for me it's not about the money - I make plenty of money at this job; as I said, my next three weeks are booked solid. It's the kind of situation where common courtesy would have gotten Adolf quite far - the client at my desk was very nice and if Adolf had explained his problem I have no doubts that client would have let Adolf "go to the head of the class." But when you start waving money around and acting like you're better than everyone, it's a lot more difficult to get people to go out of their way to help you.

Basic Information

2006-03-09T10:54:00.000-08:00

It's important to know some information about your computer when you call tech support. If your entire call consists of you saying "I have a problem, what's going on?" then odds are you aren't going to get that much help from the tech.

The most important thing to know is which version of Windows you have (assuming you're using the Windows operating system). This is a very basic piece of information that is infinitely valuable to the tech, and which is easy for you to get - all you have to do is turn on the computer and it will display right there for you!

However, some people have trouble with this question for whatever reason. Here are some of my favorite responses to the question "What version of Windows do you have?"

"I have a Dell computer."
"It's got Works on it."
"It's got those little icons that open up windows."
"The one with the 'Start' button."
"It's Microsoft."
"It's Outlook Express."
"I play Solitaire on it."
"Windows 87."
"I bought the computer in 1999."
"I've got Windows 2000 NT Professional XP Home Edition."
"My keyboard says Microsoft on it."
"I've got the blue version." (client was getting a blue error screen when they started the computer)
"Oh, Frank built this computer for me. Why don't you ask Frank? Do you have Frank's number?"
"It's Outlook Explorer Express with Netscape."

This is one question everyone should be able to answer on your tech support call. No one reading this blog is allowed to use their computer again until they figure out what version of Windows they have.

Axis of Evil

2006-03-01T09:54:00.000-08:00

I think I do a pretty good job of keeping my cool when I'm dealing with someone who is a pain in the ass. It's part of the job - you take abuse, sometimes for hours on end, and the best (and sometimes only) response is to put on your happy face and grin and bear it.

However, there are a few things I won't put up with. Attacks on my family, for one. Excessive profanity is another. And pervasive, excessive rudeness is another. After all, every Tech has his breaking point.

There is a customer on our wireless internet system named Ernie. Ernie is the type of guy who will complain and argue about absolutely anything. Ernie lives with his wife, Ellen, and his 40 year-old son Mark. The predominately use the internet to sit in their basement and play games on Party Poker together. My guess is the three of them are getting together and running the tables to scam people out of their money, because that's just the kind of people they are. Everyone in the family is like Ernie - viciously mean, and irritated at the world.

Yesterday was the last straw with Ernie and the gang.

I answered the phone and before I even finished my greeting, Ernie was screaming at me. His service is down again, and we better fix it right away. I try to walk him through some basic troubleshooting but he refuses to do anything and demands I come out to his house immediately to repair the issue.

"I'd be happy to come out there," I say, "But my schedule is quite full. It's going to be at least two weeks before I'll be able to make it out there, and the cost is going to be $65 per hour. I think if you do this troubleshooting over the phone it should fix the problem right away, and that'll save you some money and some time." This is the truth - I'm swamped, and it will probably be closer to three weeks before I'm able to work him in.

"That's outrageous!" Ernie screams, "I'm paying your paycheck and I demand some service!"

I wonder how many other professions have to deal with people saying things like this. Probably all of them. A parent is upset with a teacher for giving their son a bad grade, so they use the "I'm paying your salary" argument. A guy gets a speeding ticket and tries to pull the same crap on a cop. I wonder if that argument has ever worked for anyone. In any event, it's not working with me.

"Sir," I say through clenched teeth, "You pay $40 per month for all of the services we provide for you. That does not cover house visits, which as I said are $65 per hour, with a minimum charge of one hour. Your $40 a month does, however, include telephone support, which I'm trying to offer you now. You can do what I'm telling you over the phone, or you can wait two weeks and pay me $65 and I'll do it for you."

Ernie is rapidly losing his grip on reality, so he pulls out what I'm sure has been a tried-and-true method for him before: "I've got an ad from one of your competitors right now that says they'll offer me faster service for only $15 a month!"

"God speed," I say to him, "Go! Be free! You were born to fly with the wind, and by 'fly with the wind' I mean 'be thrown from an airplane'."

Okay, that's not what I really said, but I bet it would have felt good to say that. What I said instead was "Then I suggest you look into getting service with that competitor, sir, and I'll cancel your service with us immediately."

Ernie tries to back down at this point, seeing that I'm calling his bluff. Under normal circumstances I'd allow him to do this and reach an amicable decision, but in the case of Ernie, I'm tired of him and don't want to deal with him. Ever again.

"No," I say in response to him saying he would like to keep service with our company, "You're obviously dissatisfied with our service, I think the best thing would be for us to come remove our equipment so you can go with a different provider. Besides, none of our techs like talking to you anyway."

Ernie splutters a little bit, and threatens to call the F.C.C. on our company for the poor service and ridiculously high rates, but I hang up on him. I rarely do that, but in Ernie's case I'll make a special exception.

He may pay $40 of my salary each month, but I'm going to have to raise his rate if he wants to use me as his anger management counseling. Therapists charge a lot more than an internet service provider does.

How Should I Know?

2006-02-22T09:40:00.000-08:00

The last couple of days up here have been really slow. Although slow periods make you feel good, because it means you've been doing your job well and no one's having any problems, it also is kind of unfortunate because you are forced to live on your salary alone instead of the extra cash you bring in for actually doing repairs.

I'm sitting at my desk, going for the new high score on Minesweeper, when the phone rings for the first time in about 20 minutes. When it's slow like this, the techs fight over who gets to answer the phone; sitting at your desk playing Minesweeper for hours is all well and good, but it makes the shift seem as though it's never going to end.

I jockey with the other 15 techs in the office for the phone and come out ahead, picking up the line and slipping my headset on in one deft motion.

"Technical support," I say with a flourish, "How may I help you?"

"Yeah," says the gruff voice on the other end, "I'm still having the same damn problem as before!"

I don't say anything. Lots of calls start off like this, with unbridled anger from the client. At least 50% of my job is just getting the person on the line to calm down and not freak out about the issue that they're having.

But instead of continuing to explain the problem, the client waits on the phone in silence. After about 45 seconds of no talking, I finally say something.

"Are you there?"

"Yeah I'm here! What are you doing to fix my problem?"

"What problem is that, sir?"

The client is flustered. "The same problem I was having before!"

"And what problem is that, sir?"

"Aren't you the one I just talked to?"

I look around the office again. There's a cluster of techs checking results from the Olympics. There's another talking on his cell phone to his wife. Behind me, there's two techs at the water cooler finalizing their plans for the weekend in hushed voices (they still think their inter-office romance is a secret). I put my client on hold.

"Hey," I shout to the office, "Has anyone been on the phone with a client in about the last half hour?" My question is met with head-shaking and verbal denial. I pick the phone back up.

"No sir, I wasn't the one you were just talking to, but I'll be happy to help you out."

"Well, I'd rather talk to the young lady I was speaking with before, since she already knows what's going on."

"That'll be fine sir, do you know her name?"

"Well how should I know? You're the one that works there!"

"That's true," I sigh heavily, "But we have eight ladies in this office right now, and at least six of them could be considered 'young' so I'm not sure who you're referring to." I'm trying to make the situation more lighthearted, and failing miserably.

"Well you need to find her," my client says, "She's the one I talked to two weeks ago!"

"So when you say you 'just' talked to someone, you mean you talked to them two weeks ago?"

"Could've been three, I guess."

The company I work for is not a huge one, but our total number of tech support employees is in the 40s. Even if it wasn't and I was the only employee in the building, why would someone assume I could remember their problem from two to three weeks ago? If the client can't even remember the name of the tech he spoke to, how would I remember anything about him?

Assuming I had a photographic memory and actually could remember his problem, how exactly does he expect me to recall it if he doesn't even give me his name? Am I now expected to have a photographic memory and be a mind-reader?

Just a note to everyone who uses tech support - I have no idea what your name is or what problem you're having, even if you talked to me two minutes ago. When we hang that phone up, we immediately wash our minds of everything that just happened on the phone. Every time you call tech support, just assume you're going to have to start at the very beginning and you'll be pleasantly surprised if we actually do remember you.

Worst Kind of Caller

2006-02-15T09:34:00.000-08:00

Many people assume that the worst kind of call a tech can get is one from a little old lady who is completely computer illiterate and refers to her monitor as "the T.V. screen." This is an incorrect assumption.

Many people also assume that, barring the little old lady, the worst kind of call a tech can get is the guy who knows exactly what he's doing and asks a lot of really hard questions. This is also an incorrect assumption.

The worst kind of call a tech can get is one that falls right in the middle. That is, a client with the knowledge and skills of the little old lady, but the confidence and personal entitlement of the computer genius.

It was a busy Tuesday after a three-day weekend. Mondays are always busy because we run a truncated schedule on the weekends, and so when we're off Monday for a holiday then Tuesdays are a veritable blitzkrieg. The phone's ringing off the hook and I've got a line of people at my desk, computers tucked under their arms, impatiently waiting for me to fix their latest crisis.

It may sound like I'm complaining here, but I'm really not. I love days like this. The plethora of clients makes the day go by quick - not to mention it fills my wallet nicely. It's a lot easier to sit at a desk all day when you've got padding like that.

Turning from my latest conquest at my desk, I pick up the phone to take a call while I hook up the next computer.

"Tech support, this is Tech Guy, how can I help you?"

"I've got this Compaq computer and I was wondering if you could walk me through setting up my dial-up."

"Sure," I reply, "Easiest thing in the world. Just click on your Start Button and go up to-"

"I already did that, it didn't work."

"Your Start Button doesn't work?"

"That works fine, but what you're about to tell me to do - that doesn't work.

"What was I about to ask you to do?" I ask my clairvoyant phone pal.

"When I go to Run and type in 'repair' it doesn't work."

I think about that for a minute. After a few moments of silence, I decide that no, this guy is definitely not messing with me and he actually does think he can repair his computer by typing the word 'repair.'

"Okay, well what I was actually going to say was after clicking on 'Start' you need to go to the Control Panel and-"

"Yep, did that, I'm on Network Connections right now."

"No," I say with forced patience, "I wasn't going to say that, I was going to say-"

"Okay, got it, I'm back looking at my programs. I want to go to Microsoft Outlook Explorer, right?"

"Outlook Explorer isn't even the name of a-"

"Right, it's Outlook Express. Okay, I got that open and I'm looking at my accounts right now. It says you're my default."

"Okay, close that out, we don't need to be looking at that anymore, you just need to-"

"Hey, I just got an error message telling me that I don't have an active connection."

"Well, isn't the reason that you called because you wanted me to help you set up-"

"Okay, it's obvious you can't help me out here, I'm just going to go ahead and call Dell."

Clairvoyant ends the call. I don't know why he would call Dell to ask about his Compaq computer, I'm just glad to be rid of him so I can get back to the line of people at my desk.

I don't understand people like Clairvoyant. Why would you even bother calling to ask for help if you don't want it? If you think you know what you're doing and you want to try things yourself, that's fine - in fact, that's usually the way I do things. But don't call tech support so they can listen to you fumble your way through things.

That's 10 minutes of my life I'll never have back.

E-mail Woes

2006-02-08T09:34:00.000-08:00

I sat down at my desk this morning and logged into my e-mail. I give out my company e-mail address liberally, and it's even listed on my business cards that I hand out to every person who comes into the office. The reason I do this is that problems are infinitely easier to solve when I don't have a client breathing in my ear on the phone, impatiently demanding results and trying to make idle chit-chat since they're uncomfortable sitting in the silence that is only broken by the tap-tapping of my keyboard.

Client's make use of my business e-mail, usually for legitimate repair questions, although I have been added to the occasional mailing list. Highly annoying to get e-mail forwards from the elderly who have no one else to send their inspirational and/or mildly humorous anecdotes to. I have even received some forwards of photos of grandchildren from clients I have never met in person.

Most of the time I have a very good sense of humor about things like this because they payoff is huge. Clients enjoy sending their problems via e-mail because they know they'll get a quicker response than if they try to get through on the phones all day, since I can answer their e-mails while I'm on the phone with someone else. I enjoy receiving problems via e-mail because often the clients will have similar issues, so I can cut-and-paste responses and it's less work for me.

Today when I logged in I received this e-mail:

To the technical support department:

I have been trying to send an e-mail for the last two weeks with no success. Some days I will try over a dozen times to send the e-mail and each time I receive a response saying "The e-mail address you are sending to appears to be invalid; please check the entry in your address book."

Obviously, there is a problem with your server that is preventing me from sending my e-mail. You need to fix this problem immediately and reply to me when the problem has been solved. I am paying you $14.95 per month for your services and I expect those services to work without interruption.

Awaiting your response,
Clueless Client

I have a couple of problems with this e-mail. First of all, why would you try to do something dozens of times each day, for two weeks in a row, and not ask for help before now? In fact, why would you try it that many times anyway - if it doesn't work the first 200 times, do you think maybe it will work on the 201st attempt?

Secondly, how can a person receive such a clear-cut error message and not know what the problem is? Many times error messages will be ambiguous or difficult to understand, but that one seems pretty straightforward to me. Maybe I'm biased.

Thirdly, although we appreciate all of our "small-time" clients, saying "I pay you a whopping $14.95 per month" isn't enough to work me into a frenzy of activity at the possibility that I might lose your business. You cannot hold the loss of $14.95 per month over my head and expect anything but mockery in return.

Finally, it's obvious the client doesn't really have a problem with his e-mail (since I received this one), but if he thinks he has a problem with his e-mail, how does he think that sending me an e-mail about it is the way to go? If his e-mail isn't working, how does he think I'm going to get his e-mail letting me know that his e-mail isn't working?

This line of work offers no end of hilarity. I just wish it wasn't unintentional.

Pornfessions

2006-02-01T08:40:00.000-08:00

Just about everyone has, at some point, perused the vast resevoir of pornography available on the internet. Some do it daily, as a kind of hobby, and others go on occassion just to "see what all the hype is about." Whatever your reasons for it, just know one thing: it's okay. We've all been there. No tech is going to judge you harshly if they find porn on your computer, because odds are excellent that our own computers are loaded up with the stuff too. Trust me, we aren't going to sit here in the office laughing at you because you like hot asian anal.

However, denying that you look at internet porn when it's become very obvious that you do look at internet porn is one thing that definitely will get you made fun of here in the office. The beautiful and terrible thing about computers is that it's impossible to hide anything. If you've been looking at internet porn, it's going to be fairly obvious.

Case in point: a client brought their computer into our office because they said their machine was "acting funny." I set the computer up and switched it on, and the computer ran beautifully, with no problems whatsoever. I then plugged the network cable into the computer, enabling an internet connection. Within seconds the screen was inundated with a plethora of pop-ups, each one a very graphic depiction of lewd sexual acts.

"Looks like you've got some spyware on here," I say to the customer, "I can go ahead and run some scanners that should clean it right off. It won't take more than about 20 minutes, and the charge will be $50."

"That's fine," the man said, "But I can't imagine how that stuff got in there."

I keep a neutral expression. "It can just happen from surfing various web sites, sometimes you'll just pick that stuff up."

"I don't go to those porn sites. I'm a good Christian man, and I've got no use for garbage like that." The man is vehement in his claims.

"I'm sure that's true, sir," I reply carefully, "It's not a big deal, it should be finished up in-"

"You don't believe me? I'll have you know I'm a powerful man in the church, and I would certainly never go to any kind of web site with illicit material!"

"That's fine sir," I say, trying to use a soothing voice to calm him down, "These things just happen. I've had things like this on my computer before, it really does happen to everyone."

"Well maybe that's because you live in sin, young man, and you need to stay off those dirty web sites."

I shrug my shoulders non-commitally. It's not even worth arguing about.

But the man continues. "Quite frankly, I'm ashamed of you, young man. What would your parents say if they knew you were on those sites?"

I shrug my shoulders again. The man is projecting - he did something that he thinks is wrong, and he wants to take the focus off himself by putting it on me. It's fine - his opinion is irrelevant to my ability to fix his computer.

The man continues his tirade. "I don't know why you young people feel the need to look at that garbage. It must be something in the way you're raised. Do you have someone in your family who poses for these sites or something?"

Now he's crossed a line, and I will definitely play this game.

I open up his browser's history. I can barely contain my glee as I see a plethora of pornography sites.

"Well let's see," I say smugly, "It seems as though your computer has been to quite a few of these porn sites. In fact, it looks like all this computer has been used for in the last month is e-mail and pornography."

The man's face turns red, and it's not the red of embarassment. It's okay with me - when he started making comments about my family, I decided I didn't care about having his money anymore.

"I suppose someone besides you could have used this computer to go to these sites. Is there anyone else living in your home? A son or daughter, perhaps?"

Without a word the man yanks the cables out of his computer and storms out of the office with his tower under his arm, dragging his mouse behind him. I imagine he'll be contacting my manager in the next few days, but I doubt they'll begrudge me having a little fun at his expense. If there's a moral to this story, it's that it's okay if you view pornography on the internet, but it's not okay to lie about it while you're insulting the tech's family.

A What in the Where?

2006-01-25T08:26:00.000-08:00

You should know that whenever you talk to a person in technical support, we're really only listening to about every third sentence you say. It's not that I don't care what your problem is, it's that chances are good I've already heard whatever it is you're saying a million times before.

So why don't I just tell clients to be quiet when they go off on a tangent, ranting and raving in 10-minute orations? Two reasons. First of all, it's rude to interrupt someone, even if you're trying to save them from themselves. Second of all . . . it's impossible to do. When people start reading things from their computer, nothing you can say or do will dissuade them from reading every single thing in their sight before they pause for breath. When they run out of words on their screen, they will pick up the newspaper next to their desk and start reading that, then they'll turn on their television and read the closed captioning to you. For some reason, people go nuts when they start reading you things. I guess they're excited that you finally gave them an instruction that they can follow.

As a result, when I am on a call that features a person who really enjoys the sound of their own voice, I will continue doing whatever it is I was doing before they called and will just listen for keywords. For example, the client's side of the conversation may go something like this:

"My name is Ethel Kadiddlehopper and I'm having trouble downloading my grandbabies in my e-mail. I've been a loyal customer of your's for [insert ridiculous amount of time here, often longer than the company has been in existence]. Let me tell you what I've been doing. My daughter, Martha May, sent me some pictures of my little grandbabies, Scooter and Skeeter. They moved so far away when Martha May's husband got a job working at the chemical plant and the only reason I use the e-mail is so I could still see what they looked like. You know, for a woman my age it's very difficult to travel so far, especially since social security won't pay for my gasoline to drive so far, and my bones ache from the arthritis when I'm in the car for so long. So Martha May took those two little grandbabies of mine to the park and took some pictures of them on the swings with her new camera and then she e-mailed them to me, because she knows I like to look at pictures of the grandbabies since I'm 87 years old and can't get around as well as I used to . . ."

Do you know what part of all of that I actually heard? "Trouble" and "e-mail." For the rest of the time I was trying to beat my high score on minesweeper.

Every now and then, though, a word will jump out at and cause a tech to start carefully hanging onto every word you say. For me, the most recent example of this was the word "squealing."

The conversation was very similar to what I posted above, with an elderly woman going on and on about how old she is and how terrible Medicare is treating her. I was tuning most of it out until I heard that word. All of a sudden I backed up my train of thought.

"Wait, did you just say that when you turn on your computer it starts squeaking?"

"Yes, that's what I said. You see I wouldn't have noticed it because normally I have my televangelist playing on the television set but today-"

"Okay, what kind of squeaking is it exactly? Does it sound like metal rubbing together or something?" I won't lie, I was excited - I don't often get something new in tech support, so I latch on when I hear something unusual.

"Well, no, not like metal exactly. It reminds me of when my husband was fighting in the war and he would bring home-"

"Yeah yeah, whatever, listen: I want to look at that computer. Can you bring it in?"

"Well I'm 92 years old, it's awfully heavy for me to be carrying around, since I got the arthritis and-"

"Okay, nevermind, just tell me where you live and I'll be right out."

The woman tells me where her house is and I get in my car and start driving. She lives very close to the office, so I'm there within five minutes.

She lives in a typical "old person" house, with massive flower gardens running up and down her cracked cement walkway and several wind chimes hanging on the porch. Mrs. Kadiddlehopper (my official name for all women whose names I don't know) is waiting for me at the front door.

"I'm so glad you're here, ever since John passed away I haven't been able to do anything around the house and . . ."

The woman keeps talking but I tune her out because I can see her computer in the corner of her living room. I beeline straight for the machine and flip it on. Sure enough, there is a distinct squeaking sound coming from the box. I don't know how else to describe it.

Pulling the computer out from the wall, I take a screwdriver from my field kit and pop the case open. Tossing the case to one side, I bend down for a closer inspection of the computer's innards.

That's when the rat leapt at my face.

No kidding. There was a rat living in Mrs. Kadiddlehopper's computer. I jumped back more rapidly than I thought humanly possible. The rat jumped off my knee and ran out the still-open front door.

Without saying a word I put the case back on the tower and hooked it all back up.

"Well, Mrs. Kadiddlehopper," I say, "I think the squeaking should be alleviated now. I'd love to stay and chat but I need to run home and change my shorts."

For once, Mrs. Kadiddlehopper was speechless.

What I Get Paid For

2006-01-18T21:31:00.000-08:00

Tech Rule #2 states "Do whatever you can to help the client, unless it requires you to risk your life." You wouldn't think that this is a rule you would ever have to learn, but for some people there is no emergency more paramount to their happiness than being unable to get their e-mail and watch Google videos.

The other night there was quite a storm during my shift. Sheets of rain coming down and splashing on the office walls and roof so hard that it was almost impossible to hear anything. Lightning forked across the sky, immediately followed by peals of thunder that caused my molars to rattle together.

About ten minutes into the storm I receive word from the company's owner that one of our towers that supplies wireless internet has been struck by lightning and is no longer functioning.

When I have a technical support issue myself, I am not a take-action kind of person. I sit back and assume that someone else will call in with the problem and that if I wait long enough, everything will be taken care of. Until I became a member of the tech support industry, it never occurred to me how many people are not like that. When a wireless internet tower goes down, I am immediately inundated with calls from people asking that immortal question, "Is the internet down?" The unintentional humor of that question will never cease to amuse me.

This evening was no different, and within seconds of receiving this information from the owner I was swamped with a hurricane of activity on the phone. "Yes, a tower is down in your area," I recite repeatedly, "And no, I don't know when it's going to be fixed." In their defense, the majority of our clients were very understanding.

One was not.

"What do you mean? The internet's down?"

"Well," I say in what is rapidly becoming a monotone, "Our service is temporarily unavailable in your area due to storm damage."

"Does that mean I can't get my e-mail?"

"Yes, if the internet connection is unavailable it means you can't get your e-mail." I say a silent thank-you that video phones haven't become a reality yet, as my facial expression at this point would almost surely get me the bitching-out of a lifetime.

"So you'll have it back up and going in about the next 20 or 30 minutes then," the man says. It's not a question.

"No sir," I respond, "I can't give you a specific time, but I can guarantee you it won't be in the next half hour. We'll have to wait for the storm to move out, and then the tower will have to be given time to dry off as it will be unsafe for us to climb the metal tower when it's slick."

"Well, that's just not going to work for me," the man says, as though it's the most natural thing in the world, "I have a tournament coming up on Party Poker in 30 minutes and I'll be needing the internet then, so if you wouldn't mind getting out there and fixing it right away . . ."

At this point, I don't understand what the man is suggesting, so I'm staying calm . . . for now.

"As I said," I explain gently, "Even if it was safe for us to climb a wet metal tower - which it isn't - we simply can't go out and do any repairs during a lightning storm."

"Listen," the man says, slightly irritated, "I'm paying you $50 a month for my internet connection. If you can't meet my needs, I'm afraid I'll have to take my business elsewhere."

I stifle a laugh. "You're certainly welcome to do that, sir," I say, then add (rather foolishly) "I don't climb on a giant metal tower in a lightning storm for only $50."

Pokerguy, realizing I'm calling his bluff, predictably becomes furious. "Now see here," the man screams, "You get your fucking ass up on that tower right now and fix my goddamned internet!"

One of the first things I was taught at this business is that as soon as the conversation escalates to the level of verbal abuse or shouted profanities, I'm no longer required to continue the conversation. However, I'm not thinking logically right now. I'm furious. I do not end the conversation.

"I'll tell you what I'll do," I say, trying to keep the heat out of my voice, "I'll meet you at the base of the tower. I'll give you the tools you need and the parts that are probably going to need to be replaced. Then I'll give you a radio, and you can climb up to the top of the tower, and I'll stand at the bottom and talk you through it."

The man is silent for a moment. "I'm not doing that. There's no way I'm risking my life for my internet."

"And you expect me to?" I ask incredulously.

"Well . . . that's what you get paid for."

That's when I went ahead and hung up on him.

Mental Blackout

2006-01-11T10:57:00.000-08:00

"Technical support, this is Tech Guy, how may I help you?"

"My computer isn't working."

"Okay, could you be a little more specific?"

"It's not working, how much more specific do you need me to be?"

I sigh heavily. I get calls like this on a fairly regular basis, from people who don't know anything other than that their computer isn't working. I spend a significant amount of time with people on the phone just trying to figure out what they're talking about, not actually fixing whatever their problem is.

Luckily, I have established a couple of very fool-proof methods for this type of thing, and the one I chose to use this time is what I like to call the Dumbing Down Manuever. Basically, you make it sound like a worst-case scenario and that drives the client into a panic that forces them to be as specific as possible. Nothing strikes terror into a person's heart like the idea that their entire computer has suddenly become a glorified paper weight. Usually the conversation goes something like this:

Me: So when you press the power button on your computer nothing happens at all?
Client: No, some lights come on.
Me: So you can't see anything on the screen?
Client: No, I can see my icons.
Me: Well what did you mean by it's not working?
Client: When I start Solitaire the backs of the cards look different than what I usually have.

Problem solved, right? But this conversation was different.

"What do you mean, it's not working at all?" I ask drily, "When you press the power button nothing happens?"

But my verbose friend surprises me by saying "No, when I press the power button nothing happens."

Hmmm, interesting. He's ruined my plan because his computer actually isn't working.

"Okay," I said, "Let's start off simple and check the power cables on the computer. Can you reach behind the computer and make sure the power cable is properly connected?"

"Nope, sure can't."

Now I'm getting a little weirded out. Why can't he check that?

"Why can't you check that?"

"It's way back there, I can't reach it."

"Okay, well do you think you could look behind there then, make sure the cable is plugged in properly?"

"Nope, sure can't."

"Um . . . why not?"

"It's too dark."

I repress another heavy sigh. I can't believe I'm really having to walk this guy through Common Sense Skills For Life.

"Okay, can you turn on the lights in the room then?"

"Nope, sure can't."

It's all I can do not to tear my hair out.

"And, um . . . why exactly can't you do that?"

"Because I'm in the middle of a blackout and the power's out in my house."

Sometimes it's just not even worth picking up the telephone.

Mythbuster

2006-01-04T17:24:00.000-08:00

I once heard a story about a woman who got her credit card stuck in her computer because, while doing some shopping online, she thought the way she paid for her items was by letting her computer read her card via the "credit card machine." That turned out to be the disk drive.

Up until a few days ago, I had always assumed that fell into the "Urban Legends" category. After all, how could anyone be that dumb? That's why it took me by complete surprise when a woman dropped her iMac onto my desk and asked me if I could remove the credit card from her CD-ROM drive.

I will admit that at first I chuckled, thinking someone was playing a joke on me. "Very funny," I said, "Did Lewis put you up to this?"

One thing it's important to learn quickly in the technical support industry (Tech Rule #17) is that it is never, under any circumstances, okay to laugh at someone else's computer predicament. Even if they're laughing, it's not a safe idea to join in yourself. Until they're out of earshot, that is.

"Oh, you think it's funny?" the woman said, indignantly drawing herself up to her full height of about five feet, causing her considerable bulk to strain against her floral dress.

"Not at all, ma'am," I replied, hurriedly schooling my face to seriousness. Turning to the matter at hand, I examined the computer closely. Sure enough, lodged in the far recesses of the drive is what appears to be a Mastercard. I don't understand how Bulky managed to get the card so far in there.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to disassemble the machine," I explain, "I just don't see any other way to get to it when it's back so far."

"Well of course it's far in there" Bulky exclaimed, as though explaining to me the sky is blue, "When it didn't read the card at first I thought I needed to push it farther in, so I used a pencil from my desk to push it all the way back."

Trying to keep my eyes from widening visibly, I picked up a flashlight and shined the light into the CD drive. Upon closer inspection, I found about a quarter inch of pencil in the drive as well, with flakes of lead and pencil shavings throughout. I sigh heavily. This isn't going to go well.

I explain to Bulky the extent of the damage to her drive, and let her know that I'm willing to clean her drive up as well as I can but that it will probably never function properly again. I can see Bulky's face grow redder by the minute, and when I look into her eyes I can see enlarging dollar signs. Bulky knows how it works - fixing computers is expensive.

The problem is that a person believes that their computer can take any amount of abuse they dish out and still function properly. After all, they paid thousands of dollars for their machine, so that means it should last forever, right? What the average user doesn't understand is that computers are mass produced using cheap parts sold to the lowest bidder. When you drop $1000 for a computer, you're largely paying for licensing fees to various companies, not for a high-quality product. The computer probably costs closer to $100 to actually manufacture.

Bulky is like any other novice computer owner - she wants her computer to always work, no matter what, and doesn't understand why it doesn't when she (for example) jams a pencil into her CD-ROM drive.

"It's going to cost about $105,"I say, concluding my explanation, "That includes parts and labor." My standard rate, $65 an hour for the work and about $40 for the new CD-ROM drive.

Bulky balks. It happens almost every time someone finds out they're about to get a triple-digit bill for a mistake they made. I know Bulky's going to cough it up, though. The only thing that annoys people more than a high bill is owning a defective computer.

That, and not being able to shop online.