Current Shareware 1994 January/SHAR194.ISO/articles/sun9310.zip/FEA3

Text File | 1993-09-09 | 12KB | 198 lines

From The Journal Of..
Copyright (c) 1993, Gage Steele
All rights reserved


  [ Names and places have been changed to protect the innocent
    and to avoid unnecessary lawsuits ]



                 "From The Journal Of..."  Part Three

     Re-reading part two, I realised that I've left many things
unanswered.  The most obvious question that came to my mind is "Why, if
I hated JEannie so much, did I continue to call?"  So, before I go on
to the Staff chapter, I figure I should, like any "good author," answer
that.  If I just left it, I wouldn't be writing well and chances are
you wouldn't want to read anything more from me.  Right?

     Before I had placed my first call to the service, back when I was
stuck within the cramped walls of Paragon, I wanted to move on to
bigger things.  Now, my friends had warned me that JEannie was more
difficult to master, but I saw that as a challenge.  I love challenges!
If someone tells me I "can't" do something, hell, I'll do it 20 times
better just to prove them wrong.  Yeah, I'm a macha gal - sue me.
     When I got to JEannie, and it was tough to navigate, I started off
as a bulletin board and email user.  That's what I was used to doing
anyway, as that was really all Paragon had had.  However, I didn't know
the commands, and often my letters and messages came out rather
garbled.  That stank of "newbie" to the readers and posters that had
been there since the incarnation of GE.  My mailbox filled with notes
from the old-timers, saying things like: "If you can't get it right, go
back to kindergaarten... I mean, Paragon."  That pissed me off.  I hate
being called ignorant more than, well, not anything else, but more than
most things.  But, instead of hanging my head, beaten, I puffed out my
chest and told them all to shove off.  If they weren't going to help
me, I'd figure it out myself.
     By that time, I had moved in with some college friends and didn't
have Mom looking over my shoulder or reminding me to brush my teeth.
Living on my own also enabled me to stay up as late as I cared to, so
logging in at 3AM was nothing to me.  Basically, that's what I did.
I'd wait until the system (and the house) was quiet and then go hunting
and nosing around JEannie.  It felt... almost sneaky, like a spy
investigating in utter darkness.  Weird, huh?  If you remember, I
learned the Chat area much the same way - when no-one else was there to
see me mess up.
     With my imagination running amuck, as it usually does, I could see
how computers and Teleco might soon become that "wave of the future"
you hear so much about, but never quite catch a glimpse of.  My
generation didn't get to invent the neat things that previous ones did.
We didn't sit up in class one day and say, "Cars!  Yes, we'll all drive
cars," or, "The moon!  We'll walk on the moon one day!"  Nope, in fact,
the media was hyping people my age as real lazy pieces of shit that
cared only about ourselves.  That didn't sit right with me.  In my
childish way, I declared, "Not fair!"  I couldn't live for another
minute on the coattails of the older generation.  There had to be
something out there in which the Boomers and whatnot DIDN'T have the
advangtage.  That "something" presented itself as an IBM PS/2 Model 25.
     Maybe I do sound like a power hungry brat.  I never tried to be.
I always saw "power hungry" people as those that hoarde money and
material items to make up for their small penises and low self-esteem.
While I may be guilty of the latter, I never set out to rake in the
dough from learning my way around computers.  My saving grace?  I'll
live with that.  All I ever wanted was to be on the frontier of
something.  I think a quote would sum it up better:
           "All the great themes have been used up and turned into
           theme parks."
You might recognise that from the movie _Pump Up The Volume_.  It fits
here, too, not because it's a catch-phrase, but because it's true.
     I also knew that all great things start small.  I'd started with
that lame computer (by today's standards, that's an understatement) and
Paragon.  I'm not stupid.  I knew I couldn't go from there to Assembly
Language and the Internet (I didn't even know what those things were at
the time!).  You can't cross a river without stepping stones and you
can't explore Teleco without 'em, either.
     In the mean while, I discovered that not everyone saw Teleco in
the same way I did/do.  Most of them didn't seem to give it a lot of
thought.  I met hundreds that logged in for a few hours just to chat
mindlessly each night.  Still others used premium services, like JEannie
and Paragon, often both, to look up encylcopaedia entries or check the
latest stock quotes in the online database.  I really didn't have
anyone to share my philosophies with.  Likewise, I found it hard to
understand them when they told me how important so-and-so in Utah was
to them and, although they'd never met, they were going to get married
in June of next year.  To me, that was the grossest underestimation of
the technology: to use it as a matchmaking and dating service.
     Okay, it's time for staff stuff.  I know, took me long enough to
get to this part, eh?  Well, I only JUST now thought of a good
segueway!  Sheesh, talk about your tough crowds to please.
     Exploring JEannie and helping Eidolon wasn't cheap.  In fact,
limiting my use to a few hours each week translated to a $100.00 bill
each month.  Ouch!  There were rumours in the chatlines that staff had
free accounts in return for running games and helping new users.  So,
with everything crossed for good measure, I sent in an application for
a chat staff job.
     For the first month, I was considered something of a "junior
staffer."  Basically, I was on probation and volunteering my time.  I'd
been "chatting" for 6 months by then.  Believe me, I knew the commands.
My first night on chat help, the night I was supposed to be an intern,
watching in the sidelines, my staff babysitter pulled a no-show and I
ran things by myself.  I was glad, in a way.  I work so much better
without some jerk on my back.
     Oh, maybe I should explain that.  My staff babysitter was a 40ish
guy called Head Hound.  He was what I call a "perv," just as his
slightly modified nickname implies.  Married with children, he AND his
wife, Celestial Glow, used JEannie chatlines to find sex partners for
wife/husband swapping, threesomes, or whatever.  Gossip vine said
they'd had a "real fun weekend" at the chat SysOp's house.  Then, she
gave them free accounts.  If we'd been working in a real office, I
would have had Head Hound up on sexual harrassment charges.  He was
disgusting and slimy.
     At the end of my four weeks on trial, Sugarplum, the SysOp,
free-flagged my account.  Attitudes toward my changed instantly.
Fellow staff members treated me totally differently than they once had.
It were as though that free account made me one of them.  I was invited
into the clique chats and gossip sessions, heard all sorts of nasty
rumours, and so on.  It was weird!
     My duties as chat staff weren't extensive, even if the bullshit
was.  Each month, I got a schedule that had to be okayed and returned
to the head of scheduling.  To keep my free account, I was expected to
work not less than 9 hours per week, in 60 minute time slots.
Generally, though, I ended up with 15 hours per week, plus covering for
countless "flakes."  That was all well and good, but it seemed that no-
one knew what they doing most of the time.  You see, Sugarplum had a
different set of rules for each person.  I guess it all depended on how
much she liked you.  Some people, like Head Hound, could no-show every
night, while someone else with the flu might be fired for having
another staffer cover a game slot.
     Hoping to ingratiate myself with Sugarplum, I presented her with a
proposal for a new chat help system.  She loved it and the entire
chat staff voted that it should be incorporated into our work.  Now, I
won't go into details, but it was just an idea I'd had one night.  My
real goal was to become one of the Senior Staff.  I knew that they had
access to other, "hidden" parts of JEannie and I wanted to see those
parts.
     Sunday mornings, we had staff meetings in test chat.  I'd always
wanted to know what went on during those things.  Now I do.  I'm not
impressed.  Although, every staff member was expected to attend, out of
30 people, I never saw more than 17 of us present.  Honestly, the two
hours were spent ragging on the users.  They said the most horrid
things, too!  Here I thought we were supposed to be working for "the
corporation in the best interest of the users," but...  Quickly, I
realised that they were just a bunch of gossip whores with better,
juicier details than the rest.  I even saw things that might be
illegal, I'm not sure.
     Why don't you be the judge:


<Sugarplum> Does anyone know anything about a newbie using the handle
            Loretta?
<Rich> Yes.  Disruptive.  Why?
<Celestial Glow> It says it's a newbie, but it seems to know the system
                 awful well.
<Sugarplum> That's what I thought.  Archie, will you go out and check
            the database for [L.TERENCE] email address?
<Archie> BRB
** <Archie> is off.
          [a few minutes went by]
** <Archie> is on.
<Sugarplum> Re's, Archie.  Anything?
<Archie> Re's, all.  Here it comes.  I'm pulling it from my clipboard:
         L.TERENCE first on 920617
         Larry Terence
         [phone]
         Streetname, Apartment
         Anytown, State
<Sugarplum> Oh!  HIM!  I thought we'd gotten rid of him.  If any of you
            have any trouble with Mr. L.TERENCE, feel free to squelch
            him or have a Senior Staff pull his plug.
<Gage> but... I don't understand.  If it's a guy, why is he using a
       feminine nickname?
<Sugarplum> Because he's a sicko.


     Now, that was out of line, but I saw stuff like that in nearly
every Sunday Staff Meeting.  The price I payed for having a free
account, I guess.
     By the beginning of my third month on staff, I hated every second
I had to spend there.  The account allowed me to peruse the system
without racking up a bill, but the crap I dealt with on a daily basis
was too much.  My grandmother died in mid-month and I had to have slots
filled for two weeks solid, at the last minute.  When I returned, I was
treated as though I'd never been a staffer at all.  They all gave me
the chilly greetings and turned their backs on me.  I was dumbfounded.
I mean, sheesh, it was only two weeks.  Then, "someone" sent me a copy
of a session in which Sugarplum told everyone that I had no "death in
the family" and that I was "just a flake."
     That wasn't the worst thing, though.  If that had been "it," I
wouldn't feel so bad.  However, when I returned, there were messages
and talk everywhere about this new chat help system.  Having changed
the name I'd given my original idea, Sugarplum stole the 90% finished
project, filled in what was missing, and signed it as her own work.
Echoes of _Working Girl_.
     I quit that day.  No notice, no nothing.  I wasn't alone, either.
2 (of the 5) Senior Staff, and 7 (of the 24) chat staff also quit in
that same week.  Sugarplum was fired not long after.