I have become known in my building as ‘the girl with the tattoos’. I have been stopped on my way out several times now, and asked if I am Sam, the girl who works from home. The one who does advertising. When I ask how they knew it was me, there is a sheepish glance at my arms or at my legs and the a hesitant explanation which usually goes something like, ‘uhm… well, its just that they mentioned your tattoos…’
The part I find most amusing is that I am 4ft 11, and ’round’ and its my tattoos that are used as a reference. Well, to my knowledge. I suppose it would be a blow to discover I was actually described as the short fat chick with the tattoos who lived on the 11th floor – who worked from home – which is relevant only because all residents seem to be rated in order of usefulness.
Among others, there is a paramedic, an electrician, a handy man, and me, who is the assigned computer guru. There is also a body builder model but I am failing to see how he could be at all useful, other than as a door stop or someone to push a button in a lift. Somehow having two computer monitors side by side makes me look like the equivalent of a NASA scientist. I have spent ages guiding many a fellow resident through IT problem solving issues, when all I want to do is grab the mouse out of their hands and do it myself.
‘I keep getting this advert on my screen…’
‘My email wont send…’
‘My mouse wont work…’
and now my personal favourite, ‘How do I put CD’s on my iPod?’ – there are copied CD’s and I have yet to be able to explain the concept of iTunes, because he insists he already has Media Player. The man in question is in his late 70’s. My skill-set may be tested.
I also need someone to explain to me why the older people get the earlier they wake up. The knocks at my door are usually when I am still encased in the cheery disposition of a serial killer with a hair style of a troll that was recently electrocuted.
Opening the door half naked, with a hooded and displeased facial expression has so far not been a clear enough signal that I am still SLEEPING at that time of the morning.
…. Maybe I should set the alarms around the building off at 3 am, just before I go to bed, and they all may sleep a bit later from having their sleep interrupted.
I am tempted to invite them into my flat. They will see all my machetes, axe and sickle decorations, my bull heads and the skulls … and may decide im not really a kosher individual .
No, not really. I like helping. I just like doing things myself more. Watching someone else move their mouse so slowly is like torture…
2 thoughts on “I am a 7, in my Usefulness”
Ha, you make me laugh!
The dreaded knock on the door. “Paul I’ve got problems with . . . ..”
Only you’re right.
Either I’m having a meal, the shower is running, I’m in a chemical haze, or just not in the mood for being “nice”.
SWMBO now answers the door. My social secretary bless her.
Only the amount of times I hear “Yes but if I can only have a quick word I’m sure he can sort it”. Argh!
And Double Argh! or a full on scream if SWMBO relents and calls me to the door.
Oh, my field?
Handyman and ex-computer engineer are the only two I admit to.
Being useful is a real bitch at times.
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Hahha, I pity those (you included now…) who have MORE than once use…
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