Why yes, I do work in IT...

As I am soon leaving this job, I'm going to share with you some of my favourite exchanges from my time in ye olde Computer Center.

At a job application website: "It's asking me for my resume; should I upload my resume or what should I do?"  (Note: I am punctuating these sentences as I hear them in my head, but knowing this guy, there's no way in hell he'd think to use a semicolon.)

With the internet browser open on the screen: "How do I get to the internet?"

"Why is it deleting my browser history?"
"That's just something our computers do to erase any personal information you might've used while on the internet.  It happens when you close the browser.  It's just a security thing; don't worry about it."
"But I didn't close the browser, I just closed the window."
Thinking that browser did not equal internet in her brain, I said, "If you exited out of the internet, though, that thing is going to pop up."
"I didn't exit out of the internet."
Okay, maybe an actual error happened.  "You didn't?"
"No, I just hit the red X."

(I cannot do this one justice in text, but I HAVE to write it down.)
At 5:30: "Hey sister, what time do y'all close?"
"We close at 6:00."
"Right!  Man...  Right!  Man...  Right!  Man...  Right!  Man...  Right!  Man...  Right!  Man...  Right!  Man...  Right!  Man..."
(I wanted to see how long he would've gone on like this, but Daniel decided to say something to him.  Damn!)

After maybe 3 nanoseconds of waving the card's barcode under the scanner light as though she were having a seizure: "I CAN'T GET THIS TO WORK WHY WON'T IT SCAN WHAT AM I DOING WRONG I NEED HELP IT'S NOT WORKING DO THIS FOR ME THIS THING NEVER WORKS AND I DON'T KNOW WHY AHHHHHHHHH!"

"How do I get to a webpage if it doesn't exist anymore?"

On the phone...on the quiet floor: "I'M AT THE LIBRARY SO YOU HAVE TO BE QUIET!"

(This one has nothing to do with IT, but it was pretty awesome.  So, I work in a library, right?)
A mother to her child in the library: "Remember that place with all the books?  I want you to go there."

(I feel like a jerk when I say stuff like this, but if I point at the screen, the try to touch the screen instead of using the mouse.)
"Where do I type in my pin?"
"In the box next to where it says 'pin'."
"Where do I scan my barcode?"
"Underneath the big arrow that says 'Scan Here'."
"What button do I press if I want a day pass?"
"You just touch that button that says 'Create a Day Pass'."

"I put in google in the address bar.  Why won't it go to google?"
"Did you type 'www.google.com'?"
"No, I typed google."

After showing me one of those fabled emails from Prince Ahmud Jafar in Kenya or whatever:  "Now, if I send him my bank account information, will anyone else be able to steal it from this computer?  'Cause this is a public computer, right?  Is there some way we can delete this info after I send it to him?"

Things I Do at Work OR The Adventures of Bob the Space Cowboy Pt. 1

My job, at times, does not require a great deal of brain power.  I mean, really I'm meant to sit around and wait for people to ask me questions along the lines of "Where's the 'print' button in Microsoft Word?" and "How do I delete something in my email?"  Not exactly rocket science considering I've been working in IT for about five or six years now.  (Note: My degree is in education, but I'm becoming increasingly aware that my technology skills are much more marketable.  Go figure.  *sigh*)  Anyway, when boredom strikes, I am often looking for something to make the time go much much faster.  Luckily my friend Carrie is often able to supply me with such a distraction.  We were chatting in gchat and she tells me to tell her a story about Bob, the space cowboy from Neptune.  I was more than willing to oblige.  The resulting is this: Pt. 1 of The Adventures of Bob the Space Cowboy.  (There's not much.  I did still have to help people during this time, after all...)

Once there was a three arm gephlot named Bob.  And he was a space cowboy, boy howdy.  But not the kind that wrangled alien wildlife, was rugged and strapping, or generally particpated in the romantic stereotypical definition of what you and I know to be a cowboy, mind you...  No, no. Bob, he liked hats. Specifically of the wide brimmed variety.  And to him, this qualified him as a cowboy.  He was a recent transplant to the planet Neptune from his home planet, Atlepraxis II.  Sadly, Atlepraxis II's leader, Mimzy, decided to outlaw the wearing of wide-brimmed hats and Bob was having none of that, no sir!  So he shipped out to new environs.  Now, Neptune was nice enough.  Lots of gas clouds...reasonably freezing...crooked rings, not like that unartistic planet, Saturn.  Pish with your fancy colours!  You're not artsy at all!  You just found a box of crayons you unwashed miscreant planet!  Yeah.  Bob, he liked Neptune allright.  But after three and a half Neptunian years on the planet (which was only equal to an Atlepraxian week), Bob was beginning to feel just a twinge of homesickness.  "I miss the carnivorous sloop-margles that used to bound in and out of the dunes in the Atlepraxian desert," sayeth Bob.  "I miss the infinite convenience of the three suns that kept my Atlepraxian homeworld in eternal day!  What the hell is this nighttime business, anyway?  How does anyone get anything done when it's so dark?  And what's with all these random points of light in the sky?  They don't do anything.  They don't shed any sort of light on the planet's surface, they don't make any pictures, you can't find your way around with them.  Pish, I say!  Pish!"  So, Bob, he says to his friend, Ed, "Ed, my man, I miss my home.  I miss cave surving in the audial hwho-bangs on the Eastern mleldelnop."  Ed, who's just about had it with his friend's incessant belly-aching, says to Bob, "Really man?  Your planet, Ablebab the Fifth or whatever, sounds like a drag.  Everything sounds like this ridiculous amount of danger and thoroughly unfun.  Furthermore," says Ed, "You had to leave your planet because they outlawed wide-brimmed hats.  I mean, really?  That's your reason for packing up and changing your entire life?  And who wastes their time making stupid laws like outlawing certain kinds of hats?  You, sir, are an idiot and you planetary leader is a bitch."

So endeth Pt. 1 because, you see, work had ended and I went home to watch Fry and Laurie.