One of the most demoralizing tasks I have to perform at work is the MAC.
MAC stands for Moves, Adds, and Changes, which sounds semi-important but the only part of that that is done anymore is the Move. And even though I’m a highly-trained technician, moving a computer from one desk to another just seems like a huge waste of time and money. Seriously, it’s all color-coded these days. Any monkey could do it. Really? There’s all sorts of technical things I could be working on, but a significant portion of my job is just unplugging a computer and monitor here, and plugging it back in over there?
Sometimes the here and there are a couple of miles apart, so I have to put it all into a van and drive it from one place to another. Wheee. I’m a delivery guy. But no tips.
So today, I’m doing a MAC. Moving a PC from one cube to another. And some random guy walks over.
“Did Mary tell you to replace the keyboard?” He asks.
“Nope.” I keep unplugging stuff.
“Well, we don’t like working with that one,” he says, contempt dripping from his voice. I take a look.
By the model, I can tell that this keyboard is a) less than a year old, probably even newer, and b) about 80% cleaner than most keyboards I see throughout the day. Oh, really, Random Guy? You have no idea.
He continues, “Yes, the person that was here ate at her desk. She should not have been doing that. Can we get a new keyboard?”
I must have allowed my skepticism to show, because he adds, as if it were the final straw, “It sticks.”
Fine. “Yes,” I tell him, “I probably have one downstairs.” And I think at him, as he oozes back to his giant cubicle (obviously a manager), Oh, I’ll bet you’re absolutely delightful to work with.
I get the PC and two monitors and cables ready to move, then head downstairs to the basement to dig up a replacement. I find one that’s the same model, but new in the box. I unwrap it from the plastic, and then proceed to lick the home row of keys. I don’t particularly care what’s on there. After all, I have an immune system for a reason.
I carry it back upstairs, move the computer and plug everything in nice and neat, and make sure it comes back up and is on the network. Then I lean in Random Guy’s cube (sure enough, he’s a manager) and give him a thumb’s up.
Of course, I always wear my gloves when I move stuff around. Did I mention that? I ain’t touchin’ that shit.