Ignoring the obvious grammatical errors in this ticket—isn't that what's supposed to be happening?
At least he's trying to get the error message into the ticket. That doesn't make my headache any less painful, though.
Maybe it's just me, but I find excessive definite articles to be totally hilarious. Totally.
Thank heavens I won't have to be here when this guy calls back with whatever the hell his problem is.
That's OK—I'll put on my Magical Cap of Ultimate Prescience and figure out which fucking web site he's looking for. Hang on, let me get it.
Havening, transfering...at least she's not receivening. Someone shoot me.
His cannot type for what I think you argh rabid FOAM KILL KILL KILL.
This ticket could be interpreted to say that the computer is asking the user to please not turn it on. Which is probably what George's computer wishes it could say.
But to what, oh Master of Brevity? To what can not the user log in? Domain? Dialup? Notes? Your underpants?
But does she want it exported?
It's an older ticket, but George is still havening. He's been havening for a long time. Note the number disagreement, as well. Headache-inducing.
But what do they need, George? For the love of all that is good and pure in this world, what do they need?
It's good she knows she can't get her voicemail. I suppose that's what prompted this call in the first place.
Golly gee, darn shucks. I guess I'm havening to fix that.
A side-effect of the possession of her desk, no doubt. OoooOOOoooo! I am the scary user-possessed ghost desk!
I can probably dig up the docking station for the laptop. I'm not so sure about the docking stations for the other two.
An almost priceless comedy of grammatical agony. Feel the love, guys. Feel it.
The term "scope of support" means nothing to George.
Is her computer rebooting, or is she being rebooted? Can we reboot George?
A list of the needed extensions would have been helpful.
This man needs more gig. I think I have some around here somewhere.
Just a little proofreading is all I'm asking for. Just a tiny bit.
Stuff That's Supposed to Happen, Part 1: You Only Get One Phone Line
I sometimes wonder what would happen if I made George troubleshoot this kind of thing on his own. Then I feel all dizzy and nauseated and I have to lie down.
Stuff That's Supposed to Happen, Part 2: So is Mine, but I'm Not Complaining.
You know, an answering service staffed by a dozen blind rhesus monkeys with simian hemorrhagic fever could do a better job screening calls than George does.
I don't know. Are they his? Does this person even work here?
I look at this ticket in awe. I mean, he doesn't TALK that way. Why would he WRITE that?