Monday, July 27, 2015

William Myrl; Letters to No One (17)

July 23, 2015
Dear No One,
There is a problem. My music player is broken. Instead of complaining about the truly awful word processor in its email app, I'm going to have to complain about having to type this letter on the kiosk. The kiosk is a computer bolted to the wall in the pod, encased in slate gray plastic of terrible durability, sheathed in shiny Plexiglas. We have to log onto it to do all of our email and music stuff, and the logins are limited to twenty minutes, separated at 1 hour intervals, up to three times a day. If it were not so a few dedicated souls could lock the thing down all day. As it stands it is occupied virtually every minute of our pod rec.
My player stopped working with the last update, very sad. It flashes onto the boot-up screen but never actually manages to load the OS. I miss my euphonious noises. The problem may not be fixable remotely, in which case I will have a few months of silence and despite ahead of me. Woe and lamentations. Until then I am forced to click clack away in the pod, in the mornings or deep in the night when it is less crowded. The emails will be shorter, as I am not a profoundly skilled typist.
In other news, the rec supervisor is quitting, so all the things I’ve said about starting a band are moot moot moot. Last time we lost a rec guy the programs were all shut down for six months. I am not enthused. That job I mentioned; it’s odd. My friend Jack works as the clerk for the tailor shop. They make the suits and uniforms this place desires. He keeps the books. He was summoned to the job because they heard about his educated demeanor and soothing British accent, I presume. But he is a short timer, so they need a backup clerk. They usually hire in house for this kind of thing, but most of the people who work there don't know how to coax the fairies inside computers into making the lights go on. That or they have personality deficiencies that make them unlikely candidates. I know that I would be a master clerker, and the entry test Jack described to me is laughably simple. Make a memo, use excel... Everyone else will get first shot at it, naturally, but if they don't succeed I will have a chance to weasel my way in there. Is it still nepotism if we're not related and I'm better qualified than everyone else? He told me to keep this under my hat, which I have. Telling you doesn't count because we don't travel in the same social circles. I will know in a couple of weeks whether I have a shot.

William Myrl (17)

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