Training While Looking Into a Mirror Darkly

It’s weird training other techs.

We’ve brought it so many new people as of late, that you really don’t have an option not to train someone.

You never know what their tech level is, so you spend the first few hours tip-toeing around certain things. Seeing if they face lights up at the mention of Active Directory or if they look bored when mapping a network drive. You don’t want to insult a fellow tech by questioning their knowledge.

Also, that Saturday Night Live sketch, Nick the Company Computer Guy, isn’t far off.
Most new techs try to assert their dominance by being a sarcastic assholes.



Then something happens, usually boredom. The trainer can’t surf the web like normal because he wants to set a good example. The trainee doesn’t know what he can get away with yet, so he idly stares at the decorations on the desk and his phone every 2-3 minutes. You’re forced to… gasp… interact with each other.
Eventually it’s like some sort of war vet reunion.

The techs start swapping stories about the person that thought wireless internet was just available. Like on the eight day, got created a broadband wireless network, bonded with oxygen molecules so that people could access the internet in their car, in the mountains, or even at a remote South American resort.

Then there’s the guy that was screaming at me because he downloaded a virus and I couldn’t help him out. It’s the same guy that blames the helpdesk for him forgetting his password.

Or what about the person calling the helpdesk to change a lightbulb above their desk.

It’s a weird bond that customer service people form. Not as intense as one you form during war time, but a bond none-the-less.

I like training people, but I don’t like the one on one training in my cube. That’s my personal space someone is invited into it. I don’t like people even seen my desktop, let alone sharing real space with me. I might as well give this stranger a key to my house and tell them which underwear drawer is mine.

I feel like a person’s desktop is a reflection of who they are. For instance, my desktop is green, with a hilarious Dilbert cartoon about tech support on it. I have my icons arranged neatly, and try to keep the desktop from being cluttered by them. I’m a hilarious, clean guy to envy.

Anyway, I’m going to try to hide under my desk when trainees are getting assigned tomorrow. I’d like to have the desk to myself.