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Thursday, August 04, 2011

Seething

The Gorse Fox rarely loses his equanimity. He may have the occasional moan, but is very slow to anger. The journey home nearly changed all that.

The traffic was light and fast moving, and GF was enjoying the narrative from his audio book.

The phone rang. It was a troll. Not just any troll, but the one whose team has spectacularly failed to resource up for their job, and has failed to come up with the requisite design for their project.

He launched into a diatribe regarding the risk to programme dates and changes to the solution arising from the documents that GF has written. GF pointed out that his so-called solution did not exist as he and his team had never defined it. GF had defined it because it was needed – and he had actually taken the time to understand the problem that was being solved.

The conversation ranged across several topics. “Why aren’t you installing this on the file farm in Surrey?” he asked. “Have you asked them if they have space in Surrey?” I responded. (Needless to say they don’t).

“It’s silly copying the data to the West Country, we have faster links to Surrey from Europe” was another statement. GF explained that the data in question was not in Europe… it was actually in the West Country and we already had the ability to install fast links.

GF has no doubt this will resurrect on Friday. But he completed his journey home without incident and with a wry smile.

2 comments:

The Gray Monk said...

Time to cull the Trolls? Humanely, of course.

The Gorse Fox said...

No reason at all for humane treatment.