Incompatible

Back in November, I received an email from one of the companies I consult with:

Kathryn,
It has come to my attention that you’ve been sending emails to clients using your own non-approved, non-official email address. Please be advised that the below email address has been activated on your behalf through our firm and may now be used.
Sincerely,
IT

Since I am not the sharpest techhie-knife in the drawer, it took me a moment to realize I was not in fact, receiving an email from someone named “It”, or “Cousin It”, or “It’s Raining Men…(hallelujah!)”. (The latter being my personal favorite)

That mystery solved, I took a nap.

Just kidding….but I did basically forget all about it….as I was between projects and was honestly not all that impressed.

Slowly…bit by bit…I started the laborious process of entering the contact information into the Microsoft Office Outlook Web Access.

The other day, realizing I’d run out of time and needed to do a small announcement mailing to a select few, I logged in and crafted the most professional, concisely well-versed email in the history of emails.

That done, I rifled through a stack of documents to find the group of people that needed to receive this electronic masterpiece. Ah. Only 34 email addresses….piece of cake! I’ll simply click on this here “BCC” button and choose the recipients, as it’s trés important that everyone thinks they’re my one and only.

But wait! What has become of my beloved contact list? Who are all THESE people? I don’t know any of these people! These people are not MY people!

I glance at the time. Crap! It’s 12:30…no-one’s gonna answer the phone at 12:30. Does the entire world shut down from 12:00-1:00? Oh, double-crap! It’s 12:30! Metro (the wonderdog) needs his medicine!

So, I race into the kitchen, grab the medicine cup, grab a piece of leftover turkey from the fridge and run back to my office…where Metro’s still sprawled next to my computer chair.

“Open uuuupppp,” I sing-song…as I wave the piece of turkey in front of Metro’s nose. He immediately sits up. I pry open his mouth…expertly insert 4 pills on the back of his tongue and rub his neck, in the universal “you must swallow” motion. I then say, “Good boy!” and hand him his piece of turkey.

I then place a call to Cousin It…and got a guy by the name of Brian. At least, I think he said Brian. The following is the actual transcript of our conversation:

Brian: “Thi- i- Bri--. How ma- -elp –ou?”

Kathryn: “What? Who is this?”

Metro: “Plehh!” (Spits two pills out of his mouth. Looks pleased with himself.)

K: “CRAP! METRO!”

B: “No, -is Br-an. C-n y-o –ear –e?”

K: “What? No! I can’t…why are you breaking up? Take these pills, dammit!”

I put the phone in the crook of my neck and repeat the tried-and-true procedure of force-feeding Metro his pills.

B: “-hat –ills?.....-t –ight –e….-hone…” CLICK.

Metro: “Plehh!” (Spits same two pills…albeit, smaller…out of his mouth. Stares expectantly at me to see what’s gonna happen next.)

I’m staring at him…trying to process the possibility that I’ve been disconnected by Cousin It guy and deal with the fact that these pills are now the new bane of my existence. As I’m picking up the pills, the phone emits a piercing EH!EH!EH!EH!EH!EH! and I gasp and drop the phone…and proceed to wait for the ringing in my ear to subside.

Metro runs towards the kitchen, then back to me…in the universal-doggie sign for, “Come this way and I’ll show you where we can find more of that turkey!”

I finally manage to get the pills down the dog and re-dial Cousin It.

Brian: “This is Brian. Can you hear me now?”

Kathryn: “Uh-huh. Are you sure this is IT? Are you guys any good? What the hell is wrong with your phones?”

B: “Uh. Something’s screwed up. What do you need?”

I’m thinking, “Duh. Maybe you’re screwed up…” but I calmly explain that I can’t seem to keep my contact list up at the same time as my email…yada, yada.

B: “I’m not following.”

K: “What? You’re not following…what?”

B: “Um. Anything you just said. That doesn’t sound right.”

K: “Look…here’s my password…go look for yourself.”

B: “Okaaay….I’m in. You see the green toolbar where it says contacts?”

K: “No. There’s no green toolbar.”

B: “Yes, there is. To the left of the long list that starts with Accounting.”

K: “Nope. There’s an empty grey box. Are you sure you’re with IT?”

B: (Sighs) “I’ve sent you a capture of the page. Take a look.”

I look. The screen shot is not even CLOSE to what I’m seeing on my computer.

K: “The screen shot is not even CLOSE to what I’m seeing on my computer! How can this be??”

B: “Are you sure you’re logged into the right place?”

K: “Crap! I’m sending you a capture of what I see. Hang on!” (Muttering to myself, “Open capture software….saving file to desktop….”)

B: “Just hit Print Screen and paste it into the email…or Control S and Control V.”

Metro: “Plehh!” (Spits one teeny-tiny pill onto the floor. Sniffs it, sneezes and casually saunters away.)

K: “I’ll send these and call you back. METRO! You’re taking this pill, dammit!”

….Metro was having none of it. Can you see the defiance in his eyes??

In the end, he took the pill. And I found out that I was seeing something completely different because I was on Firefox….not Microsoft Internet Explorer…and I was trying to view Microsoft Office Outlook Web Access.

It was a classic case of incompatibility….

K: “Hi…is Bill there?”