anywhereisbetter

Don’t tell anyone, but I know a thing or two about computers.

Actually, this is hardly a secret to anyone who knows me. For the better part of ten years now, I’ve worked with them in some capacity or another. I’ve worked a range of IT jobs, from the indentured servitude that is phone-based technical support, to managing entire networks‚ and the brain-swelling headaches that come with them. And in this time, I have become convinced that‚ where computers are concerned, anyway‚ there are two kinds of people: those who will click the OK button, and those who will not. It’s as simple as that.

Let me explain. The OK button may not always say ‚ÄúOK. Frequently, it says ‚ÄúNext, ‚ÄúContinue, or even ‚ÄúI agree. But essentially, clicking any of these buttons is like making a leap of blind faith: there’s no telling what could happen next. It’s a button for thrill-seekers, technological rebels who like to live life on the edge without having to leave the confines of mom’s basement.

I think some of the thrill of clicking OK comes from the fact that you are blindly submitting to the will of the machine. Whether it’s ‚ÄúNext, ‚ÄúContinue, ‚ÄúI agree, ‚ÄúYes, or ‚ÄúFinish, you are in essence acquiescing to your computer’s wishes. The Terminator and Matrix trilogies taught us the dangers of such acts of faith, but still we recklessly eschew their warnings. We’re rebels, after all. No one, not even James Cameron, can tell us what to do. No one except our computers, that is. Just like that, clicking OK becomes not only an act of rebellion in our own lives, but a gesture in defiance of all humanity. It’s pretty intense if you think about it that way.

IT professionals have built their entire careers around this disdainful act. After all, we operate on blind faith most of the time, too. Anyone that thinks that the average IT person knows offhand what ‚ÄúError 3256 in module dynsys.dll means might as well use voodoo spells to fix paper jams. What we do know, however, that there is virtually no computer problem that cannot be solved with enough clicks of the OK button. Next, Next, I Agree, Next, OK, Yes‚ problem solved.

Agreeing blindly with my computer was how I got my start in IT work. In the days before Windows, the ‚ÄúY key was its functional equivalent of the OK button, and I used it with aplomb. Ominous questions such as ‚ÄúAre you SURE you wish to proceed? were met with brief hesitation, a shrug, and a decisive keystroke. Yes, I’m sure. I think. What’s the worst that could happen, right?

It didn’t take long before I was making a living at clicking the OK button. I started out as a technical support representative for a major Internet provider, where I would take calls from frustrated customers who lacked the bravado to click OK all by themselves. Do you want to save these settings? I guess. Would you like to restart? That’s fine. Click OK to accept these changes. You betcha.

It is ironic that this skill‚ one that has taken us so far in our careers‚ does not translate well outside the world of computers. Though my experience is limited, I have discovered that in the ‚Äúreal world, rabid assent and overenthusiastic concurrence can be viewed as somewhat abnormal, sometimes worse. Without the comfort of these buttons to guide him, the computer tech frequently has trouble in everyday social interactions:

-Hi there, come here often?
-Yes.

-Can I buy you a drink?
-OK.

-Nice night, isn’t it?
-I agree.

-My ex-boyfriend is such a jerk, mind if I talk about him for the next hour or so?
-Continue…

-You’re a nice guy. Can I give you my number?
-Y?

-Because I thought we could go out sometime.
-Next.

It’s no wonder we can’t get dates. But remember ladies, we’re rebels. That counts for something, doesn’t it?