The loneliness of the long distance brain cell.
Monday, October 3rd, 2005 04:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
caddymanHaving begun badly today has begun to offer up new and interesting ways of demonstrating the whimsy of the universe. Or perhaps more accurately, opportunities to demonstrate the low-level of brain activity to be found in the average maintenance troll.
An hour ago, as is my wont, I wandered down to the smoking room for a restorative ciggy, and attempt to finish off the difficult-rated sudoku1 in The Times2. Getting to the smoking room door, I find that the lock is broken, a chair is jammed against the inside of the door handle in the anteroom, and the movement-sensitive lights are off. The room is dark. (The room is right down on the ground floor, and faces north. There was just a tiny amount of natural light visible through the window in the second door from the anteroom into the smoking room itself, no sign of artificial light at all). Anyone in the room is therefore keeping particularly still. No amount of hammering at the door elicited any response from inside.
How would you interpret this?
Honestly?
Well the few of us out in the corridor interpreted it as someone potentially trying to do themselves harm in a comparatively quiet part of the building. Worse, it could be some nutter up to something nastier – this is a government building in central London, after all. So we called security down to investigate.
While security were in the process of reducing the door to matchwood, a baffled workman emerged from inside asking what the racket was all about. He had his i-Pod earphones on, and had only just noticed that something was happening.
This mental giant had gone into the smoking room to maintain the air filters, and had turned all the electrics in the room off. Hence no lights. He was lying under one of the filters, using a torch to illuminate the wiring he was checking, hence no obvious movement for the light sensors even had they been on. Earphones meant no reaction to the increasingly frantic hammering on the door, hence no response.
The chair holding the door shut? The lock was broken and he didn’t want anyone disturbing him while he was working since a lot of ceiling panelling needed to be removed.
Fair enough.
But as security pointed out, next time a Building Services Maintenance: Do Not Enter sign on the door will have the same effect, and no one will think that there’s a murder-suicide pact in progress.
He didn’t see what all the fuss was about.
Now we need a new door for the smoking room.
1Or crazy number puzzle as it is known in Japan.
2Yes, there is an element of hypocrisy here after my previous diatribe against the damned things, but they are addictive.
An hour ago, as is my wont, I wandered down to the smoking room for a restorative ciggy, and attempt to finish off the difficult-rated sudoku1 in The Times2. Getting to the smoking room door, I find that the lock is broken, a chair is jammed against the inside of the door handle in the anteroom, and the movement-sensitive lights are off. The room is dark. (The room is right down on the ground floor, and faces north. There was just a tiny amount of natural light visible through the window in the second door from the anteroom into the smoking room itself, no sign of artificial light at all). Anyone in the room is therefore keeping particularly still. No amount of hammering at the door elicited any response from inside.
How would you interpret this?
Honestly?
Well the few of us out in the corridor interpreted it as someone potentially trying to do themselves harm in a comparatively quiet part of the building. Worse, it could be some nutter up to something nastier – this is a government building in central London, after all. So we called security down to investigate.
While security were in the process of reducing the door to matchwood, a baffled workman emerged from inside asking what the racket was all about. He had his i-Pod earphones on, and had only just noticed that something was happening.
This mental giant had gone into the smoking room to maintain the air filters, and had turned all the electrics in the room off. Hence no lights. He was lying under one of the filters, using a torch to illuminate the wiring he was checking, hence no obvious movement for the light sensors even had they been on. Earphones meant no reaction to the increasingly frantic hammering on the door, hence no response.
The chair holding the door shut? The lock was broken and he didn’t want anyone disturbing him while he was working since a lot of ceiling panelling needed to be removed.
Fair enough.
But as security pointed out, next time a Building Services Maintenance: Do Not Enter sign on the door will have the same effect, and no one will think that there’s a murder-suicide pact in progress.
He didn’t see what all the fuss was about.
Now we need a new door for the smoking room.
1Or crazy number puzzle as it is known in Japan.
2Yes, there is an element of hypocrisy here after my previous diatribe against the damned things, but they are addictive.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2005-10-03 03:44 pm (UTC)[horrified]
(no subject)
Date: 2005-10-03 03:50 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-10-03 03:58 pm (UTC)Yes, there is an element of hypocrisy here after my previous diatribe against the damned things, but they are addictive.
I knew you would come round. The little things eventually get under everybody's skin.
I remember this game!
Date: 2005-10-03 07:40 pm (UTC)In the smoking room.
The room is dark. You are likely to be eaten by a Grue.
> use lighter
You are wielding a cigarette lighter.
Click! The lighter ignites with a small yellow flame.
> Look
This is the smoking room.
Clouds of dense, ancient smoke hide the far walls. There is a door to the south.
A man is lying on the floor here.
> examine man
The man appears to be asleep on the job (perhaps he is a civil servant)
The man is wearing an Ipod.
> examine ipod.
It's a really old model, How uncool!
The Ipod is playing The Beetles
> wake man
The man mumbles something about paperclips but does not wake up.
> kick man
The man mumbles something about spreadsheets but does not wake up.
> get ipod
You cannot get the Ipod, it appears to be attached to its owner.
> turn off Ipod
The Ipod is so old and uncool that you don't know where the switch is.
The Ipod is playing King Crimson
> shuffle ipod
You click the wheel on the Ipod.
The Ipod is playing Dire Straits.
> again
You click the wheel on the Ipod.
The Ipod is playing Motown.
> again
You click the wheel on the Ipod.
The Ipod is playing Fleetwood Mac.
> upload Franz Ferdinand to ipod
Ok.
> shuffle ipod
You click the wheel on the Ipod
The Ipod is playing Franz Ferdinand.
Th man screams in terror!
The man is dragged into the 21st Century!
The man wakes up!
> say "Hello Bryan"
Re: I remember this game!
Date: 2005-10-03 11:21 pm (UTC)>reformat Romney
(no subject)
Date: 2005-10-03 08:14 pm (UTC)I haven't had a cigarette for over three weeks now btw and nobody has died yet.