💾 Archived View for clemat.is › saccophore › library › ebooks › bofh › newbofh › bofh12jun.txt captured on 2021-12-04 at 18:04:22.
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The boss is being a little reticent about my rate so I decide to twist
the knife a bit by calling up some contracting agencies. My only worry
being that if I called up a good agency, I'd probably get a job - which
rather defeats the purpose of the exercise. My purpose is to make the
boss wince every time there's a contracting rate review. And to rake in
more dosh of course.
Bearing in mind my job prospects, I put some feelers out with a couple
of the large but mostly dodgy agencies. The sort of agency that will
'smooth out the wrinkles' in your CV before faxing them on to a
prospective employer.
Wrinkles like, 'I done DOS once,' and 'I know how to turn my screen on,'
become 'Wrote DOS from scratch,' and 'Extensive Hardware Support
Background'.
I expect the worst and get it. I meet my placement consultant at a local
pub, where he buys me a beer to prove that he's really my friend, and
not someone who wants a criminal percentage of my wages.
"So," my personally assigned, widely experienced, computing professional
placement consultant says: "You're looking for a position in
networking?"
"Yes."
"What sort of experience do you have?"
I run through a quick synopsis of the past 10 years.
"Excellent. Now, have you had much experience of DOS?"
"Why?"
"Well we have an excellent position in DOS consultancy at the moment."
"And you feel that's a networking position?" I ask, already annoyed.
"Well, not exactly. Initially it would be more of a help desk role."
"Not interested. I'm networks, not systems, and definitely not support."
"Ah. Oh well, it was a thought. What about VAX/VMS?"
"DECNet? TCP/IP? Dare I say it, CI?"
"No, more in the lines of Cobol Programming. Great position there. In
Milton Ke.."
"No."
"Very good pay..."
"If I'd wanted to do Cobol Programming I would have said so. But I
didn't, I said 'networking'."
"Of course, so you did. hardware engineering doesn't interest you?"
"What sort of hardware?"
"Dead terminals mainly. But when they're working they're connected to a
terminal server, which is on a network..." he calls out as I leave the
pub, drink only half finished.
The boss meanwhile has been playing my game and has faxed out to a
couple of contracting agencies himself, obviously in an effort to show
me how cheaply he can get a replacement. It's sad how people delude
themselves sometimes.
My next few days are punctuated by offers of data entry, fill-in
secretarial work, tape monkeying etc. Which I decline. At long last one
of the agencies comes through with a price that would bring tears to the
boss's eyes. I get the details and am thinking about it when the boss
walks in.
"I'll take it," I say, as the boss discreetly tunes into my
conversation.
"Take what?" he asks.
"The job I was just offered," I reply, smiling cheesily.
He rallies under the pressure and responds: "And just in time too!"
"For what, Christmas shopping?" I say, applying pressure.
"No. Just in time for us. I've found your replacement!" he gloats,
shaking a wad of barely readable faxed paper.
"You're not serious!" I say, pointing at the paper, "you can't even read
it!"
"Don't need to," he smirks, "I rang them and verified the details."
"You're not going to trust THAT agency are you?" I cry. "They can't even
place an advert properly, let alone a computing professional."
"That's where you're wrong!" the boss snarls. "They HAVE found me
someone. Far more experienced than you, and only a fraction more
expensive. And he starts this afternoon. SECURITY!"
The moment the boss has been dreaming of for months has arrived.
"Escort this member of the public to the street. Don't let him touch
anything, and take his access keys off him at the door. He's to speak to
no-one. And have him removed from the contractors' register IMMEDIATELY!
Have his personal effects checked for items of the company's, then
forward them on to him."
Job done, he swaggers back to his office, the John Wayne of networks and
systems.
I am escorted to the street and hand over my access keys. I take a quick
survey of the building that was once my workplace, then wander back in
to reception.
>Ding!< "Hello," I smile to the receptionist. "I've just been appointed
to a position as Network Administrator. Could you ring my supervisor
please..."
Can't wait to see John Wayne's face. Or my new pay cheque. Or the memo
saying that as a new entry on the contractors' register I am required to
attend a paid week's-worth of safety lectures.
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