The entry-level helpdesk technician looked at the clock: 4:55 PM. Five minutes until clocking out and getting a ride from her date. She was dressed up a little nicer than normal. Nothing too fancy, since it was a work evening, but it’d also been a while since they’d gone out anywhere. Just as she was starting to daydream about dinner, the Eville Medical helpdesk phone rang: “IT… this is Sammohini!” “Yeah, hello, just a quick question.”
The young computer repair technician crawled back to her workstation after a delicious chicken curry lunch to a fury of important messages:
Email:
“Urgent!
Hi, Sammohini…I cannot get logged in.
Sent from my eScribe ES2001K“
Messe Business message from Nessa Shailaja:
can you go see dr duce ASAP
her computer crashed
she has a meeting in like 10 min.
Voicemail: “Hey, Sammohini, Nessa. Dr. Duce needs her computer fixed ASAP. I’ll try paging you. Okay, bye-e!”
Two computer repair technicians at Eville Medical were packing up for the evening. One was upbeat, with stylish clothing, while the other, dressed in plain black, looked tired.
“Doesn’t feel like I made a dent in my workload. What a waste.”
“Aww, don’t say that, Hank! You helped me out a lot! Err-umm… I took some of that time from you, so I’ll help you out tomorrow!”
“No worries, Sammohini.”
“…Can I ask you something?”
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The computer repair technician was typing an email before hearing…
a…
piercing…
sneeze!
“Yeah, I’m back,”
Sammohini’s colleague at Eville Medical, Hank, had a crackling voice,
“our Wilesware-“
A violent cough disrupted the phone conversation.
Followed
by
a
series
of
coughing
rumblings.
Sammohini saved the email, locked her workstation, and rushed over.
Tissues,
disinfectant soap,
trashcan between his shoes,
and Hank huddled over the trashcan.
Depressing the mute button, “so our W7000Ks have a- hhoughhh!”
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“We’ve gotta hot one, Sammohini. Wanna swing up to fix a printer with me?”
“Huh?” The junior computer repair technician stopped typing. “Oh, yeah, sure!”
Hank held a large circular toner cartridge like it was a bazooka.
“Let’s blast,” he pretended to shoot the toner-bazooka, dramatically recoiling, “this one outta the water!”
She chuckled, looked at her screens momentarily, re-read the email she was typing, clicked “Send,” locked her computer, then ran to catch up.
A new ticket appeared at the top of the ticket system’s list. High priority! “obscura4 down!” The second-level computer repair technician tasked with managing the queue, Sammohini, read through the ticket details. In the private notes, the first-level technician noted “customer says venkat always fixes this. hes out sick. does we need 2 call him?” She assigned the ticket to herself. ‘No one’s here,’ she thought, ‘and Venkat’s out sick, poor guy… let’s find his notes!’
Sammohini Lanchester: anything i can help you out with?
Hank Ospfrey: I’m good. Let’s check on Venkat.
Both computer repairers met Venkat is his area near their cube farm.
“Namaste, Venkat.”
“Rokastaar, Suparastaar. How is it going?”
Their team’s veteran swiveled around in his chair.
“Anything we can help you out with, Venkat?”
“Not now. I have no work right now.”
“Doesn’t happen too often, huh, ‘Bhaee’?”
“Does not happen often. Nils is also sick.”
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“My family, we are accountants. Am? No thanks. My body falls after two hours of rest![1]” The two furniture movers were chatting while pushing two carts up a ramp from a loading dock where they’d parked their truck. “I know what you mean, Sili. I don’t like looking at a computer screen for more than two hours.” “Haha! You’re very fun- funny, Jane!” They rang the faded door buzzer to deliver supplies to Eville Medical.
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“IT, this is Sam!”
“Hello, my name is Dr. Hardman. I would like to re-configure a password for my account.”
“Sure thing, doctor! Just let me just get some information from you so I can verify your identity before I reset that password for you!”
The recently-hired, entry-level computer support person typed away at her keyboard while talking on a wired headset.
“Why do I need to do this? Cannot you edit my password promptly?”
Most of my jobs have involved some form of physicality. I’ve only worked with a few people with physical impairments, so I will be the first to admit my lack of perspective perhaps required to tell “The Story,” for Trishna [center] and John [not shown], but it is a story I must tell! So I research, observe, and learn in order to tell this story. We covered John’s gigging last time. Now it’s Trishna’s turn!
Spoilers?: Minor (job-hunting brainstorming 2 of 2)
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