So phone system went
TITSUP?
Welcome again to On-Call, The Register's Friday ramble through readers' recollections of unfortunate IT problems. This week, reader “Shane” shared a story of his 1990s job as a very rapidly expanding technology company's “sole SysAdmin/NetAdmin/whatever else was needed.” Shane worked alongside a phone specialist and a “nice …
I once took a call from a woman wanting some work done in Worcester; it took me about 5 minutes to realise she was talking about Worcester, Massachusetts, USA, and not Worcester, Worcestershire, UK
Poor dear had got the area code SERIOUSLY wrong.
Another poor dear phoned up and accused me of stealing her phone number (two digits swapped), at least that explained all the home help and social services calls I had been getting..
Another poor dear phoned up and accused me of stealing her phone number (two digits swapped), at least that explained all the home help and social services calls I had been getting..
Reminds me of the call I had at work shortly after we moved in and had a change of number.
Me: Good morning, tiny-corp
Caller: Hello? Is Mabel there?
Me: I'm afraid not, this is a business number you've come through to.
Caller: Are you sure?
Um. Yes. Quite.
We then got a call from the Police telling us to stop cold-calling the elderly with aggressive sales tactics. as we were a small B2B that provided a specialist service to large (Fortune 500) type companies. We suggested they speak to BT about what bunch of pirates was assigned this number previously...
Reminds me of the call I had at work shortly after we moved in and had a change of number.
When we moved into our current house we got a new number because BT couldn't transfer the old one for some reason. Unfortunately it had previously been assigned to a car hire place, and back in those days old yellow pages tended to hang around in phone boxes for years, so for about five years we'd get calls from tourists wanting to hire a car. That wasn't too bad though compared to the bloody faxes at two in the morning.
Yeah same story here except it was a pub in our case. Had loads of calls with people asking if we were happy with our current booze suppliers, we're the most competitive etc. Then one day I had a bloke call suggesting his firm could deliver us spirits and beat any other quote. I said that was fantastic and could they really beat Tesco/Sainsbury/ASDA/Lidl/Aldi to which he replied this isn't a licensed premises is it. I said we had a tv licence if that's what he meant, he didn't and said he'd take our number off the list.
Never let that stop me telling the same story....
Back in the 90s I worked in the outskirts of that there London, and we all had 020 8.... numbers. All fine, apart from the corresponding 020 7 numbers evidently went to Scotland Yard, and specifically the CID
No, you really don't need to tell me something
On a similar vein, I had a supplier send us a box of CD-ROMs containing their full catalogue in handy HTML form. The dev who had built the catalogue had forgotten to change the URLS properly and they all contained the name of his PC, which was Jessica.
Not a problem, you'd think, but at the time Netscape was the browser of choice and it would helpfully add www. and .com automatically to URLS which were not FQDN.
No prizes for guessing what kind of website could be found at www dot jessica dot com...
Someone (actually, a rather well known German company) once sent us an inertial navigation system for a submarine. We were not expecting it, seeing as we did normally only work with broadcast systems. (I figured out what it was, it was beautifully built, very high quality connectors and fittings etc, the Navy does NOT skimp on quality) So I called them up, explained we had one of their units delivered to us by mistake. The nice German girl that I spoke too was horrified, said that it was a highly classified bit of kit, to lock it up and keep it safe, they would send someone to pick it up. Two weeks later, I called them up again, explained the thing was still sitting on it's pallet in our warehouse. More shock and horror from the Germans, they would come and pick it up "straight away". When I left the company 3 years later, the thing was still sitting in a corner of the workshop. Several times we considered selling it it on e-bay or just dumping it in the skip, but we always chickened out. But why did they send it to us in the first place? Still a mystery.
They probably tried to collect it from wherever it should have gone in the first place.
Unfortunately the submarine, lacking inertial navigation, became hopelessly lost and wanders the oceans of the world to this day. Its crew survives by converting sea life into a crude form of diesel, that is the sea life which isn't used for food or companionship.
None of the people that the German company sent out to retrieve the unit were ever heard from again.
By the time they DO get around to picking it up, the thing will be obsolete and worth nothing to anyone.
That said, you'd think there would be a chain-of-custody document for something that classified...along with all kinds of other paperwork, and how many of these do they build a year, anyway? Maybe the person responsible for procurement of inertial navigation systems for submarines retired, and his replacement has not yet been hired, due to a 3-year hiring freeze?
Somewhere, there should be a submarine missing its inertial navigation system. Soon to be arriving on a beach near you.
Someone (actually, a rather well known German company) once sent us an inertial navigation system for a submarine.
Similarly, our vicar once received a fax from the MoD containing a number of classified details about the new torpedo detect/defeat system he was tendering on.
They actually *did* come around to collect the offending fax and apologised profusely.
He did enquire as to whether some sort of Moses-style parting of the sea might provide fleet protection from incoming torpedoes but I don't think they pursued that line of research.
Back in my helpdesk days, working for one of the big IT outsource companies, we were on day-1 of service having just displaced one of our competitors. There was the inevitable queue of calls and a large backlog of existing tickets to be resolved. The PFB's had agreed to two teams - one to focus on each.
I remember the colleague who picked up the ticket from late the previous week stating "Urgent : User needs help justifying work", since we provided help on Office products and many of the users were on-the-road marketing types, the mobile number didn't raise any eyebrows.
Unfortunately it turned out that the phone number had been sourced from a local phone box and the poor chap got a bit more than he bargained for when he called to help the lady.
Back in 89 our secretaries started receiving perv calls on a daily basis, all seemingly coming from the same guy, according to said secretaries. They were quite upset about it, of course, and we had discussed the issue in several occasions. One day, when I was in front of their desk, one of them received one of these calls and made frantic signals to me, including the 'perv' signal we had previously agreed on*.
So I took the following steps:
1- I 'loaded' in my head a script we had previously discussed half jokingly regarding the issue..
2- Lowered my already basso voice an octave or so, making it sound a little bit like a foghorn.
3- Prepared my best voice impersonation of Count Vladimir Harkonnen as depicted in the film Dune. You know, mellifluous tones mixed with lots of menace, that kind of crap.
4- Took the phone and started the conversation with an Spanish equivalent of "Hello sweetie!" and continued with a list of things "I"** would like to do with/to him, that I won´t reproduce here 'cos there could be children or elderly ladies reading this discussion.
5- Kept talking for two minutes or so till the fuckwit hanged on me! How rude!
6- Told the secretaries to stop guffawing and went about my business. The girls suffered random bouts of giggling for several days, but were otherwise OK with my handling of the matter.
The guy never called again. He probably committed suicide. Not missing him though. ^_^`
And for a decade and a half, every time we had an employees + ex-employees party -something we did every few years, someone would ask "Remember when Mephistro...?", the whole story would be re-told (with some exaggeration added) by the incumbents an I'd be invariably asked to repeat my performance, something that I did only when I was very, very drunk.
Ahhh, those were the days!
note*: The signal was the gesture of opening a raincoat with both hands, for obvious reasons. :-)
note**: Here, "I" means the role I played for the pervert. I'm not gay, I'm not a sadist, I'm not into scat or golden showers and I'm not into bestiality***.
note***: I think the part about the electric eel was pure genius, if I may say so myself.
My last place didn't have a "Perv Signal", but we did have a "Nutter Signal" - if someone phoned me up and asked me to refill a particular (non-existent) printer, that was my cue to head to Reception and assist colleagues if necessary.
It only ever got used once, but the cause was immediately obvious... A spaced-out student carrying a rag doll, which he put down on the desk and started to talk to it. "Now you keep quiet while I talk to the nice lady !"
That one lasted a couple of years, until he was told to go away and not come back until he had seen a shrink. Talking to rag dolls is one thing, head-butting police cars (and leaving a head-shaped dent in the bonnet) is quite another.
> head-butting police cars (and leaving a head-shaped dent in the bonnet) is quite another.
I've seen that happen a few times in my student days. The bonnet head butting was usually assisted by a strong hand on the head-butter's neck though. Obviously, the minimum necessary force thing was quite open to interpretation in those days (well, the "minimum" and "necessary" parts were).
Current gig has a path leading up to halls of residence, and occasionally some clown decides to expose himself to the freshers.
One time, I had to use that path, and some Friend of Humanity decides to display his wares - this one didn't care if his victims were male or female, I think he just got a kick out of the shock value.
He didn't bank on me pointing at his groin and saying "Oh ! It looks just like a penis, only smaller !"
For those of you wanting something to play back at dirty callers, check out "Short Dick Man" by 20 Fingers - I'm sure the (totally NSFW) chorus and lines like "Isn't that cute, an extra belly button ?" will get the point across. (Don't bother with the versions on Youtube, most of them are censored)
Current gig has a path leading up to halls of residence, and occasionally some clown decides to expose himself to the freshers.
Back in the days when I worked at a university we had the same problem, lasting most of one academic year. It ended when he made the mistake of flashing the vice captain of the women's hockey team on the way back from practice. She was a well built young women, known for her aggressive way with a hockey stick. The last anybody saw of the flasher was when he was spotted hobbling very slowly and doubled over as he left the campus some time later.
(I originally posted this back in 2013, but it's worth a re-telling. The line in question was normally used for some DEC kit that used DECevent to phone home (quite literally !), but I put a handset on the line after we started getting odd engaged tones. Turns out a local garage had an almost identical number, with just two digits transposed, and the locals refused to accept that I couldn't change the oil in their old banger...!)
I had a spate of calls from one bunch of clowns, and decided to have a little fun with them the next time they caled...
*ring*ring*ring*
Me: Name, Rank, Serial Number.
Them: What?
Me: Name, Rank, Serial Number.
Them: Excuse me?
Me: You heard. Name, Rank, Serial Number. NOW!
Them: I don't understand.
Me: Call is now being traced... Please stand by... <Holds down star key on phone>
Them: <click>
I haven't heard from them since. Maybe they've put me on their "NUTTERS - DO NOT CALL" list ?
Used to have a phone number that was the same as the local Chinese takeaway, apart from the transposed final two digits.
If I had to give out my number to people I didn't want to speak to, I would "accidentally" swap the last numbers round. Fair's fair - I was getting their calls!
(Re: the "Code in..." stunt)
I see what you did there.
I used to get random calls on my cellphone from such amusing places as south africa and surrounding countries. I pulled that stunt a few times after the 3rd or 4th caller to do that.
Sadly, I tired even of that and changed my number a month or two later.
I once took a call from a guy with the thickest stereotypical Jamaican accent you can imagine... and as I went to put him on hold for a moment to look something up... I heard him shout across the room to his 'partner'
"So... you gonna give me a blowjob tonight"
Thankfully I managed to hit the mute button before collapsing into hysterical laughter that had all eyes turning in my direction. It was a good minute before I could compose myself to speak to him again without chuckling.
I wonder if he did indeed get his BJ that night.
one of our branches had the last two digits reversed with a adult movie company.
The boss and receptionist (both female) were in a fit of giggles when I dialed it in front of them, to explain why they got so many weird calls, mainly from women.
Of course I'm sure the porn company equally got some very confused callers on the end.
In the mid 90s I worked the customer support line for Gateway computers. People would need to download drivers for their computer all the time, but being early days of the Internet we usually had to talk them through dialing in to an FTP server. Occasionally though customers would have web accounts and we would have to emphatically warn them NOT to go to www.gateway.com, which was a gay porn site. (The correct site was www.gateway2000.com)
My equipment room phone extension used to be 61, and my company is in the 617 area code (American, Eastern MA). Every time anyone in the company tried calling an outside line without properly dialing out first it would ring my phone.
They fixed this mostly by me unplugging my phone in the equipment room and then promoting me to a job with an actual office with a different phone extension.