BOFH: This printer engineer knows every trick in the book

Simon travaglia

EPISODE 14 The morning coffee in Mission Control is interrupted by a hesitant tapping at the door. Our current office temp has an issue.

"It's the printer," she says, apologetically. "It makes a noise."

"When it's printing, or all the time?" the PFY asks.

"Sort of both. It starts making the noise before it starts printing, then keeps making the noise for about 20 seconds after."

The PFY and I pop out and take a look, and the printer is indeed making a tiny squeaking noise, from the time it wakes up until the time it lapses back into low-power mode.

"I know it's hardly noticeable, but the office is so quiet..." she says.

"Leave it with us," I say.

"So you can fix it?"

"A machine with an extortionately priced service contract, voided the moment we open a panel that we're not authorized to open?" I ask. "Not a chance!"

"Oh," she says, disappointedly.

"But what we can do," I say, moving a bunch of paper from my rarely used desk phone and pressing a speed dial button, "is log a fault."

Barely 15 minutes later, I have negotiated the tricky maze of passages, all alike, which comprise the printer company's ancient IVR system, and am speaking to an actual engineer.

"… and what's the serial number?" he asks.

I rattle off the sequence of numbers that I took a snapshot of earlier.

"Oh no, that sounds like the controller serial number," he sighs. "I need the printer serial number. It's on the back panel of the machine, underneath the sticker with our support number on it. If you want to ring back when you get that I ca-"

"It's OK, I have that here," I say, having been to this particular rodeo a time or two before.

Ploy #1 in the Printer Engineer playbook is to ask for the serial number. If the user actually has the serial number, ask for some other number, i.e. the FULL model number, the total page count, a 40-digit service number from the sticker – where the last two digits are mysteriously missing, etc. When they can't supply it, get them to ring back, endure another 15 minutes of ambiguous and clunky IVR, and then hopefully get fielded to some other engineer.

I rattle off the new number, the model number, the revision number – which is helpfully located on the base of the machine. Like I said, not the first time we've ridden this bronco...

"And what seems to be the problem?" the engineer asks, unable to shake us.

"It's probably the fuser unit," I say.

"It's probably the fuser unit, or it is the fuser unit?" he asks.

"I can't be sure – I'm no printer scientist," I admit. "Could you make it in this morning?"

Ploy #2. You can never make it when they want you to make it.

"Oh... this morning I'm fully booked up."

"This afternoon then?" I ask.

"Let me see. Hmmm. No, it looks like I've got a couple of calls outside the city."

"Tomorrow morning?"

"Hmmmmmmmmm, no, but I can possibly make it tomorrow between 1 and 3pm – if that works."

"OK," I sigh. "I suppose we can make that work."

"And I'll need a park for the van."

"Right. I'll get one coned off outside the building."

...

"OK," I say to the temp. "He'll be here tomorrow at 3:45."

"He said between 1 and 3," she points out.

Ploy #3. Turn up late and leave a note asking the user to rebook.

We all know the rules.

... The next day, 3:40pm ...

"And here he comes," the PFY says, as we watch a small white van pull up beside the road cones we installed early this morning. The driver gets out, moves the cones, along with the "DANGER, SINK HOLE" sign that we had made – complete with branding from the local council.

Scant minutes later, he's in the main office, looking at the printer.

"I thought you said it was a fuser unit?" he states.

"No, no, I said it was probably the fuser unit," I counter.

"It's got nothing to do with the fuser unit," he replies.

"My bad," I say. "But then would you have turned up if I'd told you it was a squeaky bearing?"

"Yes."

"Yes, but would you then have said that you'd need to order some replacement bearings?"

"I do need to order some replacement bearings."

"And in a week's time, will you ring us back, say the bearings are discontinued, that this particular printer model is end of line, and that for the sake of compatibility we'd need to replace this printer and every other printer in the building for an eye-wateringly large price?"

Ploy #4. The Upsell.

"This printer model is end of line. We don't have spares either," he admits.

"So," I say, "what I need you to do is this: take this printer up to the fourth floor, tell them that you're upgrading their printer with this one, which has 32-bit color, blacker blacks, a memory expansion, and an advanced feeder mechanism – then bring their one down here."

"It's the same printer," he replies. "They're all exactly the same."

"Yes, but only you, me, my assistant – and now our temp – know this."

"No, I don't think I could do th-"

"20 quid," I say, waving a note in his eyeline.

"Be back in five," he says, pocketing the cash faster than a FIFA official.

True to his word, he's back in five, pushing a printer in front of him.

"Pleasure doing business with you," he says, parking the printer in front of me and grabbing his tool kit.

...

"Are you sure that he actually replaced the printer?" the temp asks, as the PFY wheels the printer out of the main office to Mission Control. "Only, our printer had a red smudge on the front panel... and I think the replacement printer did too."

Ploy #5. Take the money and run.

"We'll only know by listening," I say.

"Listening for what?" she asks.

"Shh!" I whisper.

And the temp's right, the office is quiet. So quiet you could hear a slight squeaking noise from a worn bearing. Or, off in the distance, the sound of a large multifunction printer hitting a small white van from a great height...

• BOFH: Previous episodes on The Register

• The Compleat BOFH Archives 95-99