What we’ve got here is a failure to communicate…

failure-to-communicate

Earlier today, we were notified by the Tier 1 Desk Monkeys that one of the sites had a fire in their server room, taking out half the systems with it in the room. The other half went soon after when the afore-mentioned fire damage caused an electrical arc, blowing out the remaining systems. Less than two minutes later, another Tier 1 Desk Monkey called us to ask whether we were putting in an emergency notification.

About 15 minutes after I had put it in, I got a call from one of the Tier 1 Desk Monkey supervisors, asking me whether a ticket or emergency notification had been submitted. He could literally hear me facepalm, and asked what as wrong. I told him one of his underlings had called us 15 minutes earlier to notify us that a ticket had been put in, and that I had already put the notification in, putting his group on the email push for that. I didn’t think I could hear someone’s face turn red with embarrassment before, but I swear I could hear his face turning beet red. I also wondered to myself how on $deity’s green Earth these people can function when they seemingly don’t communicate with each other, especially for something as major as a whole site’s IT infrastructure going down due to fire.

The coup de grace to this, another Tier 1 Desk Monkey put in a separate emergency notification, then called us to inform us of it. When they were told by my coworker (who took their call) one was already in, they asked US to close the duplicate they had JUST created FOR them. My coworker asked why they couldn’t do so themselves when they had just created it, and their response was the classic “That’s not my job!”

And people wonder why I don’t want to be asked computer questions when I’m of work….

It never fails…

oh-for-fuck-sake-not-this-shit-again

Even when I’m celebrating my birthday at the House of Mouse for several days, and despite telling them specifically not to call me for such things for the duration of the trip, I still get a phone call from my parents asking me for tech support.

$parents call and say the Intarwebz are down and asking what to do, whether they should ask the neighbors if theirs are down and if they even have the same ISP as us. I groan and tell them to power cycle the modem & router, but no, my dad won’t let me off the phone, despite being about to walk in to do a meet & greet. I tell him what to do, and about 10 minutes later, get a FB message saying the power cycle fixed everything. Oh yes, and no birthday messages on the Book of Faces, texts, etc., to just wish me a happy b-day from the parentals. Guess they misinterpreted the “don’t call me for free tech support while I’m on vacation away from doing tech support” request as “don’t call me for anything”.

Now bear in mind, this isn’t the first time (in more ways than one), I’ve been called whilst at Disney for tech support from the parentals, nor has it been the first time I’ve been called on my birthday for such things. The only reason I leave my phone on is because, quite frankly, the soul-crushing, psassive-aggressive guilt of “but what if it’s an emergency” “but what if someone’s dying” “but we just want to talk to you” and so on is far more of an irritation to me. That and the earful I get from the rants (note the plural form of the word) I’ve been on the receiving end, wherein my father goes on in excruciating detail about just how much he hates leaving voicemails for people is equally as irritating.