History has been made, and I'm proud to be part of it. Or not.

For the next couple of weeks I'm working on 2nd tier phone support. People with PC problems get put through to me, I connect up to their computer remotely, and then I rock their world. Sometimes there are lots of these people. Sometimes, like this afternoon, there are very few.

On this kind of occasion, tiredness can set in. I slump forward. My head rests in my hands. I enter a trance-like state where I'm neither awake nor asleep. I call this the Bone-Zone. Actually, I don't really, but it sounds catchy so I'll use it for the purposes of this blog entry.

I'm roused from this detached state by the sound of feet shuffling nearby my desk. I look up. Our coordinator is there, fidgeting with a camera. "Gotta take your photo for the website, mate," he mumbles, and that's what he does.

Several minutes later, I'm still in exactly the same pose. I blink as I come out of my stupour. Then I head over to the coordinator's desk, where he's looking at the photo on his PC.

My mouth is agape. My right eye is welded shut by some sort of gluey white substance. There are red marks on my face where my hands have been resting. In fact, it looks like someone took a couple of concrete pavers and bitch slapped me around the head a few dozen times with them. And yet, the coordinator is happy with it. The photo is going up.

And here's where the history comes in. This is, quite easily the worst photo of me - no wait, the worst photo of anyone that has ever been taken in the history of the universe. And it's going on our corporate website.

And before you ask: No. You are not getting the URL.

Posted by Bonestorm on Tuesday, July 18, 2006 at 3:14 PM | Permalink