💾 Archived View for clemat.is › saccophore › library › ebooks › bofh › newbofh › bofh10jul.txt captured on 2021-12-04 at 18:04:22.
⬅️ Previous capture (2021-12-03)
-=-=-=-=-=-=-
TThhee BBaassttaarrdd OOppeerraattoorr FFrroomm HHeellll
TThhee BBOOFFHH bbeeccoommeess aa ccoonnttrraacctt kkiilllleerr aass hhee uunnddooeess ssoommee ddaammaaggee ccaauusseedd bbyy
tthhee bboossss ......
========================================================================
I'm not happy. True, that's not such a rare occurrence, but today I'm
VERY unhappy.
The boss has just dropped a bombshell in that he has single-handedly
negotiated a bulk deal maintenance contract from one of our hardware
suppliers entitling us to a 50 per cent discount on the maintenance of a
machine.
Now I'm as much in favour of maintenance discounts as the next Systems
and Networks Administrator who believes that most maintenance engineers
should be struck about the head with a rugby sock full of thin-wire
terminators, but this sounds a tad suspicious.
The boss, well known for having problems negotiating hallways, has
somehow managed to cheat the highly skilled, money- grabbing, shafting
professionals that make up the maintenance sales team at 'Rob-me-blind'
Corp.
Uh-huh.
And while he was at it, he found his office without asking for help.
I don't think so.
So all that remains is for me to see what sort of complete pants-downer
we've got.
"So what sort of contract is it?" I ask him, once he's back in his
office gloating.
"Standard contract as before, only I've got the bastards LOCKED INTO IT
for 20 years!" he cries gleefully. "IT'S AIRTIGHT! I had their lawyer
squirming!"
"And OUR lawyer?" I ask, expecting the inevitable. "Overrated!" he
replies. "Could have done it with my eyes closed"
Looking over the contract, I see he probably did.
"Mmm. One small question," I say, teeing up for a long drive down the
fairway of hopelessness.
"Yes?"
"You do realise that WE are also locked into this deal for 20 years?"
"Of course."
"Well, bearing that in mind, could you point me to any - ANY piece of
equipment we've had for more than five years, let alone 20?"
A penny starts the long drop.
"Uh...Ummmm...well...nothing?!?" he squeaks as his penny investment
policy matures.
"Not quite true," I say. "We do have the large IBM card punching machine
in the computer room. And do you know why we have it?"
"To punch cards?"
"Not when we don't have the corresponding reader..."
"Air conditioner ballast!" he blurts, just guessing.
"No. True, switching it off would relieve the necessity for a couple of
the larger aircons, but no. The reason we have it is because it was put
in when the building was first commissioned. It's not even ours. It's
worth about �200 as scrap, only we can't collect BECAUSE IT'S TOO BIG TO
GET OUT THE BLOODY DOOR!"
"I don't get the point," the boss confesses.
I check the document to make sure.
"Well, you have signed, a BINDING, AIRTIGHT contract which says that we
will pay them �2,000 a month, every month, for the next 20 years, to
look after a minicomputer that in about five years' time won't even put
up a good show against a pocket calculator. And you didn't ask to see
their licence beforehand?!"
"Which licence?"
"THEIR BLOODY LICENCE TO PRINT MONEY! YOU'VE GIVEN THEM EVERYTHING! THE
ONLY THING YOU MISSED OUT WAS AN ACCIDENT INDEMNITY CLAUSE!" I shout in
a frenzy.
An ice cold thought hits me. "You didn't give them complete indemnity
against damage, did you?"
"What do you mean?" our skilled arbitration professional asks.
"Complete indemnity against damage. You know, they trip on a floor tile
and drop their screwdriver down a ventilation hole and short the power
supply to the backplane and blow a machine to bits. Their responsibility
ends with 'SORRY'."
"Uhhhhmmmmm... No. No, in fact I'm sure I didn't because once an
engineer snapped the lead in my propelling pencil and we made him pay!"
"Yes, well at �2,000 a month, I'm sure the cost of a pencil lead will
have them insuring themselves to the hilt."
Two weeks later the engineer from Rob-us-Blind-for-20-years arrives.
To make us feel like he's earning his dosh he unscrews the cover, gives
the diagnostic lights a look, writes down a couple of numbers, then
smiling smugly, puts the cover back on.
In fact he's so smug he doesn't even notice the PFY snaffling one of his
screwdrivers and wandering off.
Nor does he notice the floor tile which is sitting a little higher than
the others. Until he trips on it, tool-kit bursting on impact (as
planned) followed by an extremely loud 'BANG' as our priceless, museum
piece, very first company card punch machine explodes with his
screwdriver between the power supply and the wiring loom.
Being an old machine it catches fire as well. Or that could be the
petrol-soaked rag the PFY and I stuffed it with beforehand.
The boss and one of our lawyers gaze soundlessly from behind the viewing
screen, the lawyer contemplating damages, the boss contemplating the
humungous favour he'll owe me at contract renegotiation time...
========================================================================
Previous : _T_h_e_ _B_O_F_H_ _h_a_s_ _h_e_a_t_e_d_ _e_x_c_h_a_n_g_e_ _w_i_t_h_ _t_h_e_ _b_o_s_s_ _._._.
Next : _T_h_e_ _B_O_F_H_ _e_x_p_l_a_i_n_s_,_ _d_u_m_m_i_e_s_ _d_o_n_'_t_ _g_r_o_w_ _o_n_ _t_r_e_e_s_ _._._.
Back to _T_h_e_ _B_a_s_t_a_r_d_ _M_e_n_u.