Low Bridge!

Sometimes I think the PFY's brain is on permanent vacation. The following case should prove the point:

***

"So you have enough cables?" asked I of my PFY.

"Yep, almost enough to go ten times around the block."

"And you have the firewalls, the switches, and the proxy server I configured last night?"

"Check. Right. Of course."

"And you have SysAdmin's cell phone number in case you have trouble?"

"Wrote it on my wrist in indelible ink. And on my elbow, just in case I wash my hands!"

"Ah... Yes I see... And of course you have the ADSL modem?"

"Right here. Carrying that personally!" said the PFY, pointing to the slim box clamped under his arm.

"And your car?" asked I, apprehensive on this point for good reasons.

"Well, um, SysAdmin gave me the keys to the company van, 'cause of all the cables and stuff. He said at least that way there was a chance that everything got to the client in one piece... What did he mean by that?"

"Nothing, I'm sure. So. You're ready. Good. Well, drive carefully, and I'll try to call you up during a break in the meeting."

Blake and Edwards, one of our bigger clients, had discovered the internet. All Dr. Edwards' fault, of course, Dr. Edwards being the younger of the famous lawyer team of Blake and Edwards, and more "hip" to modern culture. And what Dr. Edwards suggested, Dr. Blake always followed through with.

I wish I could say the same of the PFY and my suggestions...

Anyway, I had an important full day meeting, and even though I had licked my fingers at finally being able to install some new hardware at Blake and Edwards' fine offices down town, I was forced to delegate the assignment. SysAdmin and his assistant, SubSysAdmin, were in the middle of the Quarter Year Security Audit. So, much to my mortification, I had to pass the B&E mission off to the PFY. I just hoped Blake and Edwards wouldn't sue us for anything the PFY messed up. And if they did, I hoped they wouldn't represent themselves in court...

In the later part of the afternoon I finally got around to give the PFY a quick call.

"PFY! How much damage have you done?"

"Hehe boss, you sure say funny things. Everything is going great."

"No trouble with the newly installed cable mounts?"

"Nope. Holes for the plugs are all in the right places. The rack for the firewalls and proxy server got delivered yesterday, and I just finished fitting everything into it. Beautiful setup, if I say so myself. Just got to cable the data pool's room, then do old Blake's office, and I'm finished. Did you know he didn't even have a computer yet?"

"Yes, but he isn't a technophobe, whatever his opponents in court say. He's just never needed his own PC, what with all those data entry secretaries they have. Good to hear you're doing well. Don't forget to bring back the van; SysAdmin needs it tomorrow."

"Ok boss, null problemo!"

Well, that sounded good. For once I thought the PFY had really done his job well.

But nooooooo!

It was late the next day when my phone rang.

"Ah, Dr. Blake! How is everything? New installation working fine? Got Internet access now?"

"Yes, everything seems to be in order Mr. Fainswift."

"Good, good. Glad to hear it. And you've received the bill, I suppose?"

"Quite, accounting will be taking care of it next week."

"Perfect", says I, rubbing my hand at the thought of a nice little bonus I was soon to receive.

"There is, however, just one slight issue... I was wondering if it were possible to place the Internet antennae somewhere else. Having a yellow cable running through the middle of my office at neck height is a bit disconcerting. Especially to my, shall we say, more senior clients, who aren't used to obstacle courses anymore?"

Internet antennae?!? Yellow cable at neck height?!?!? What was that supposed to be?!?!?!?!?

"Ah, I'm afraid I haven't debriefed my PFY yet. I'll do that right now and get back to you as soon as possible. I'm sure we can quickly resolve that... issue."

With that I hung up, jumped up from my chair, slid over the desk, and high tailed it to where I was positive the PFY was spending his afternoon. Arriving in the warehouse, I found the PFY snoring happily away in the paper archive section under "P". An indelicate prod to his midsection booted him up.

"Ah, hiya boss, just looking for... ehm... last months payroll balance sheet for... ahm.. the Controller..."

"Rrrright... You can look for that later. Right now I want to know what an Internet antennae is doing in Blake's office, about neck height, probably decapitating anyone rash enough to rush into his office without looking."

"Ah, yes, um... Ran out of longer network cables yesterday. I could just barely make the last cable I had reach Blake's PC from the wall network socket by hanging it from the ceiling. Wasn't long enough to go around the room, and I didn't want to go under the carpet, 'cause Blake's got those chairs with wheels on them, and you know how fast network cable gets damaged if you roll over them with your chair. Clever thinking, no?"

"Hmmm... And what was that about an antennae for the Internet? Did you take along the wrong installation manual? The one for Prof. Feinsteen who wants to build his own SETI receiver, perhaps?"

"Of course not. Old Blake asked me what the cable was for. And that was the closest analogy I could find, that he'd get."

"Ah. And, my dear PFY, it never crossed your mind to perhaps go early this morning with maybe a bit of a longer cable, and replace the guillotinesque construction in Blake's office?"

"No. Should I have?"

***

There! You see? A definite case of "Cereberum Vacancia", or in layman's terms, "Brain On Vacation".

I rest my case.

And yes, the PFY was sent off with a longer cable. And as an apology, a case of fine bubbly was later sent to Dr. Blake in our company's name. At the PFY's cost, of course.