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Aug. 10th, 2010 03:18 pmThis morning I had a voicemail on my work phone that someone, somewhere, was trapped in an elevator.
IT'S LIKE A MYSTERY STORY.
The man leaving the voicemail said his name was John, and that he was calling because there was an elevator entrapment in their building. He did give the address of the building, but it is not my building, and not a building we actually have offices in. He asked if I could please "call the elevator guys" to come get this person out of the elevator, and then hung up without leaving a callback number.
Apparently I am so awesome at my job that people from other buildings now call me to fix their problems.
Not knowing who their service guys were or indeed whether the Elevator Entrapment had been resolved (the call came in at six am, I arrived at 7:30), I looked up the number for the security desk of the other building, and called that. They said they knew nothing about it, but would make sure all the elevators were working.
It all feels like some sort of elaborate metaphysical prank. I feel like Buffy, given the egg. "As a punishment, it's a little abstract."
Perhaps it is a joke by St. Lawrence, whose feast day is today; he was the patron saint of Archivists and, to judge from the stories that remain about him, wiseass admins as well.
IT'S LIKE A MYSTERY STORY.
The man leaving the voicemail said his name was John, and that he was calling because there was an elevator entrapment in their building. He did give the address of the building, but it is not my building, and not a building we actually have offices in. He asked if I could please "call the elevator guys" to come get this person out of the elevator, and then hung up without leaving a callback number.
Apparently I am so awesome at my job that people from other buildings now call me to fix their problems.
Not knowing who their service guys were or indeed whether the Elevator Entrapment had been resolved (the call came in at six am, I arrived at 7:30), I looked up the number for the security desk of the other building, and called that. They said they knew nothing about it, but would make sure all the elevators were working.
It all feels like some sort of elaborate metaphysical prank. I feel like Buffy, given the egg. "As a punishment, it's a little abstract."
Perhaps it is a joke by St. Lawrence, whose feast day is today; he was the patron saint of Archivists and, to judge from the stories that remain about him, wiseass admins as well.
