A couple of years ago, I got an internship in the IT department of a non-profit. My boss asked me to log in to all the computers belonging to users that were gone for the day and do a quick update to our software. I shrugged my shoulders and got to work.

About an hour later, I signed off from the machines I worked on and left for the day.

I got to work the next day and noticed I had about twelve missed calls. I checked my voicemail and almost all the messages were from this woman complaining about not being able to log in. I fired off some emails and headed down to figure out what had gone wrong.

She immediately confronted me and was absolutely delighted that I had potentially f***ed up something. She was threatening to have me fired, telling me that she’d been trying to log in for an hour, and saying things like, “Why do we have an IT department if you’re always breaking our computers?!”

I tried to calm her down and sat at her desk to troubleshoot the issue. It turned out that because I was the last one to log in the day before, Windows auto-filled the username as “Administrator.” She was typing in her password without changing her username.

I was speechless; I couldn’t believe she sat there for an hour without figuring out to type in her first initial and last name before putting in her password.

I told her to type up her username and password and she should be fine. She gave me the snottiest look and said, “Next time, type in my username for me, got it?”

I had to swallow that and get on with my day.

Related:
The Username Blame Game, Part 2
The Username Blame Game

This story was pieced together by a coworker and me. I get a call and it sounds like a teenage boy.

Teenage Boy: “Hi. One of your colleagues is getting shouted at by my dad right now. I’m really sorry about that. He’s been on the phone for twenty minutes if that helps identify him, but anyway, I know what’s wrong. The Internet is down because…”

The teenager goes into some technical issues that are most likely the issue and provides all the security details. We actually get the issue fixed in about five minutes!

Me: “Glad I could help!”

Teenage Boy: “Thank you! I’m going to go and save your colleague now.”

He hangs up, and I take a quick break to walk the floor. It doesn’t take me long to find my flustered coworker being shouted at on the phone. Suddenly, he stops looking so anxious, actually smiles, says the sign-off spiel, and puts down his headset. He tells me this is what went down.

Coworker: “Sir, I am trying to help you, but—”

Coworker’s Caller: “You ain’t trying to do s***! I’m trying to get my Internet back here, and all you’re telling me to do is type in some numbers and all this other complicated s***, and that’s your job! You’re just being lazy!”

Coworker: “Sir, that is just our standard IP address for your router, and—”

Coworker’s Caller: “You think I am dumb? You have the means to fix it from your end, but—”

Suddenly, there is another voice on the call: the teenage boy.

Teenage Boy: “Dad… Dad! The Internet is fixed! Look!”

Coworker’s Caller: “What? But… how?”

Teenage Boy: “I called them and got it fixed. It was pretty simple if you actually just followed their instructions.”

Coworker’s Caller: “But that’s what I have been doing!”

Teenage Boy: “No, Dad, you’ve been being an a**hole. Now hang up the phone! Those poor workers are scored based on call times, and it’s been nearly half an hou—” *Click*

There is hope for the next generation.

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I have been a third-line tech support employee for six months, which means I am only called if very, very serious issues appear, but I have to be available twenty-four-seven.

We have a work phone that is passed between each technician every week. Usually, the calls are from actual clients that have urgent issues that we need to solve. Occasionally, a sweet, old grandma calls (the same one) who excuses herself when mistyping her grandchild’s phone number (or maybe she just wants someone to talk to).

One evening, though, I receive a call quite late.

Me: “Hello, tech support! What can I help you with?”

The caller says something I do not understand.

Me: “Excuse me, I did not quite understand what you said.”

The caller sounds a bit confused and then speaks something else, but this time I recognise the language as being Italian.

Me: “Sorry, I do not understand Italian. Would it be possible to speak in English or get someone who can speak it?”

The caller angrily swears in Italian and leaves the room where she has the phone. Then, I can hear two female voices in the background:

Second Caller: “Ciao.”

Me: “Ciao. Parlare Engles?”

I attempt to ask if she knows English in very broken Italian. The second caller doesn’t answer, I hear some commotion, and then she ends the call.

I thought to myself, “Okay, that was one weird call. I guess my colleagues will have a nice story to hear tomorrow during lunch.”

But wait. There’s more.

I get called again. I don’t check the number to see who is calling and answer directly.

Me: “Hello, tech support! How ca—”

Caller: *Angrily* “F*** you, you a**hole!”

This time it is in my native language which, for some reason, she knows I speak.

Caller: “Give me back my phone!”

Me: “That’s not a nice thing to say…”

Caller: “You stole my phone! Give it back!”

Me: “No, you have the wrong number. This is [Company] tech support.”

Caller: “You lying piece of s***! I know you’re lying; give it back!”

Me: “Insults won’t make me give you my work phone… You have the wrong number.”

Caller: *Another few swear words* “Give me back my phone or I’ll call the Carabinieri—” *the Italian police force* “—after you! I know where you live!”

Me: “Okay, call them! I do hope they like tea after such a long international drive.”

The caller swore again and then closed the call.

To this day, I still have the tea waiting for them… Still alone…

My husband works in in-house tech support and tells me numerous stories about coworkers (co-irkers?) who fill his day with delight.

Since we’re both working from home, I can sometimes hear his half of the support tickets. Today he told me what happened on the other half of a support call that had him needing to step outside for a bit afterward.

The call came from someone who, following the automatic prompt to change their password, had managed to lock themselves out of their PC because their password “wasn’t working”. I heard my husband’s half, and he was calm and patient throughout. I’ve no idea how!

Husband: “Okay, I’ve set it back to [default password], so update it for me now.”

Caller: “Okay… It’s locked me out again!”

Repeat this about three times.

Husband: “Okay, I’m going to break protocol here and ask you to put your chosen password in the chat so I can see if there are any non-accepted characters. You won’t be able to use this password after, but I can narrow down the problem.”

The caller does so, and [Husband] copies and pastes it into the password settings.

Husband: “Just while it’s set to this password, please try logging in.”

Caller: “It’s locked me out again!”

Husband: “Are you sure you’re typing it correctly?”

Caller: “Of course, I’m typing it correctly! I’m not stupid!”

Husband: *Still patiently* “Okay, type it in and press the little eye icon.”

The caller does so, pressing the icon for a fraction of a second. This is long enough for my husband to spot…

Husband: “There’s an N missing!”

Caller: “What N? Wait, um… What’s my mother’s maiden name? Does it have an N? [Husband], how do you spell my mother’s maiden name?”

Husband: “…How should I know?”

Caller: *Sounds of rummaging paperwork* “It’s Kenroy… So, it does have an N in it! I’ve written it down wrong.”

Husband: *Facepalming quietly when I glance into his office* “Okay, so you’re using accepted characters. Please update your password…”

Client: “The video doesn’t work, and my presentation is in five minutes!”

Me: “Okay, no problem. We will get to the bottom of this. What exactly is happening?”

Client: “I double-click the video file, and all I get is a black screen! No picture and no sound.”

Me: “Did you press ‘play’?”

Client: “Oh, there it goes. Thanks!”