From: Will Date: Thu, 24 Jul 2003 15:14:30 -0500 Subject: PFY Submission I love my job. No, I really do. Honest. Ok, so cleaning out stalls from a public house on Sunday morning after a rugby match in New South Wales (with my tongue) would bring me more joy than catering to the shear hell that is my livelihood. Sometimes I even catch myself looking at the Kiama Independent... It all started when I decided that I could write applications better than the idiots that did it for a living. I knew what they were charging and I just wanted to get some of that action for myself. Who wouldn't? Hell, if they can sell shoddy pieces of shite for "only US$129.99", why can't I? The plan was brilliant. Hook up with a local "Manufacturing Services" (or whatever else is was doing that month) company and hawk out my skills as a programmer for 'em on an "after hours" arrangement. They find the silly gits... uh... customers and I charge the company on a pre piece basis for software I do at home, away from my normal job. They charge a mark-up and everybody goes home with a little extra pocket change. I neglected to realize that any company that would do that should not be privy to certain information. Such as my real name and phone number, for instance. So, I am typing happily away on a new version of my coveted "proof-of-concept advanced meeting simulator" (a MUD), when the phone rings. My phone doesn't ring. "Hello?" I ask. "Hi, this is Rick *****. I bought some software from XYZ company and need some help installing it," the voice enthusiastically squeaks from the receiver. "Why are you calling me?" I politely inquire, a vague gnawing in my gut demands attention, but I kick it back down below. "Oh, they told me this was the support number," he helpfully replies. Damn. I try to keep my voice under the radar of the Open Office plan cubicles that surround me... "Did you read the instructions?" I mumble into the phone. "Oh, yes!" People in the walkway turn to see if that was me. Smiling sheepishly, I wave the phone at them and they turn away, pointedly ignoring me. Thank God. "I read them, but there was no instructions on how to install the software." Hmmmm. Either they did not send off the documentation (which was included on the copy-protected CD) or ... "Did you look at page three, Rick?" I hint, hoping for some semblance of Clue. "There was no page 3," he confirms his sad state of illiterate (normal) public school graduate. "Did you get a printed document titled 'Work Notes' or print off the one on the CD?" I find that I am gripping the edge of the desk a little harder than would be suggested by the manufacturer. At least it keeps my teeth from grinding into the phone. "Oh, yes!" I hit the mute button in time for that one. I try the indirect approach, "Could you read off the title at the top of page 3?" "There is no page three." He must have a recording somewhere. "It was a white document with a nice, black box on the front with the title 'Work Notes' in black, right?" Perhaps they took the time out of their busy schedules shamming people to produce their own, high quality publications? "Yes," he confirms. They may be lazy, but they are consistent. "What is on page three?" I ask again. "There is no page three," he parrots back. This recording is starting to get a little scratchy. "Alright," I respond. "Do you have the document in font of you?" "Yes, I have it right here!" I can almost feel the light off of his teeth through the phone. Mine are starting to grind. "What is on page one?" Time for a little hand holding, eh? He rattles off the top of page one, page two... "Hey, there *is* a page three!" he triumphantly bellows. I can almost see the phone twitch. "It says 'Installation Instructions', too!" "Be sure to get your tech department to assist you in the install, sir," I helpfully chime in. "Oh, no bother," he informs me. "I'm the Senior IT Manager here!" God help them. I get his company information while he basks in gratitude, including the number of copies and versions of software. I just knew the latest Plextor was too good a drive for those company gooks. Looks like I need to revise my installation files for a better key algorithm. And talk to them about at least 50 copies of software that they neglected to report for my last invoice... Be a shame to have to tell their customers they are selling pirated software, wouldn't it? Sincerely, Will