Pr3++yG33kyTh1ng

So.
Not counting that test post, here is an accounting of the story that is the reason this journal exists.
Consider it my geek manifesto, my desperate cry for help, my declaration that work does not have to suck.
I'm hoping the whole thing doesn't end up burned onto a CD and labeled "State's Evidence 2".

I'm an I.T. Professional. Having weathered the great I.T. bust and the worst of the outsourcing movement, I feel safe in finally admitting that. I'll never be an astronaut. I'll never be the President. I'll never be a ballerina. Fine.

When I agreed to my latest job, I knew what questions to ask.
"Is there a good team environment?"
"Will I be working on projects or is it mostly fire fighting?"
"What is the state of the documentation?"
I was thrilled with the answers I received. If only they had been true.

Four months later I find myself behind the glass in an "Operations Center", fielding actual escalated phone calls from time to time. Talking to users. I've managed to avoid that for almost a decade.
The team is good. I get along pretty well with the guys. Of course, I'm the only guy on the team, so that helps. We have a history. I can appreciate the work ethic of my fellow "team member". It is almost like I know what I am thinking. I can anticipate my every action and (more often) inaction.
Also, I fight I.T. fires all day. I'm astounded at the way people can break their crap. I'm even more impressed at the way our sales department has promised exactly how fast we will fix absolutely whatever problem turns up. I'm more a "fire prevention" kind of guy. "Fire suppression" wears on me, especially since absolutely nothing is documented, so returning a broken system to the original state is 100% guesswork. I think past employees must have been too busy fighting fires to take notes.
On top of that, like any good sales department, promises are made. When my boss walked over to my desk and reported that a major client had requested I never speak with them again, and that the sales person had agreed to these irrational terms, my response was an enthusiastic, "Awesome! One down!"
It seems, however, that even though I was officially shut out of the account for some imagined slight (and all the broken crap associated with it) my team mates had to step up and take responsibility. The result:
A completely non-believable alter-ego who only responds to requests through a bogus email account. Of course, I still get to "ghost write" all of the actual work. I dread the day a phone call slips through and I have to fake an accent.
All was well. As well as a situation like this could actually be, anyway. Until today.
Today one of our dedicated front-line actual phone answerers came back from vacation. In accordance with company policy, none of this shady business had been documented or communicated. Something broke.
I sent that slacker guy out to fix it.
Our technician communicated to the client that all would be well soon because I had gone to fix it. And he used my name. My real name. Not the name of my disgruntled alter-ego.

What followed could only be described as adult pouting, followed by whining. Of course, the technical issue was resolved. I sent our best guy. But explaining the set up of our elaborate deception to management was uncomfortable at best. At least the sales department dreamed the whole thing up.
And I got to say it. The phrase I've been saving for years, looking for the perfect opportunity to unleash it on management types:
"I wouldn't say it is the stupidest thing I've ever seen . . . . but I once saw a cat eating matches."

Believe it or not, I still have a job. But I'm working on it.
Tomorrow I plan to spend about eight hours behind the glass, looking pretty for the prospective clients coming through on tours. It is my thing.