Death of a server

On Monday night our new home office network server died. Garry couldn't believe it. A brand new machine failed four weeks after he'd set it up. Fortunately it was under warranty, including onsite repair in the first year. Garry duly arranged for a technician to visit, while I made plans to work from home for the day. Queue lights and let the drama begin.

At 4:30pm this afternoon, a technician arrives at our door. "Hello! I'm here to repair your computer. Has the replacement part arrived?" The part had not arrived. Earlier today Garry had called the repair depot to check that everything was in order. "Oh yes. A replacement part is being flown in from the Netherlands and will arrive at your home by 17:00. No. The technician won't bring it with him. He will be arriving separately from another location. Don't worry. We do this sort of thing all the time."

Needless to say, after checking the dead server and asking me technical questions that only Garry could answer, the technician decided to call the office and track down the missing courier. "Oh? The part won't reach you until 7:00pm, not 17:00." He offered to come back tomorrow. He was very civil about it all but I certainly couldn't schedule another day out of the office.

After some debate the technician agreed to camp out at our house until the courier arrived. He asked if he could watch a DVD. Entertaining my unexpected guest seemed the simplest solution so I downed tools to set him up with our nest of remote controls and a chilled glass of water. To add to the confusion, our cleaner showed up and began furiously mopping the floor around us.

Naturally, all of this drama unfolded as I was trying to simultaneously conduct a business call with a colleague in the USA, a call I'd delayed earlier when the technician first arrived. At some point between greeting the cleaner, responding to technical questions with a blank stare and setting up our DVD player I accidentally hung up on my business call. The afternoon was rapidly descending into a farce.

Our well travelled replacement part finally arrived shortly after 6:30pm. By 7:00pm our server was up and running once again. However, the technician had just one more request. "Could a courier come by tomorrow to collect the broken part as it has to be returned under warranty?" I was dumbfounded. At what point did the message, "I cannot work from home tomorrow," fail to sink in? Surely being asked to watch a DVD for an hour had made this clear?

Garry and I continue to be astonished by the number of company's in the UK that only schedule home visits and deliveries during working hours. Even worse, none will guarantee a visit time and few will indicate if they'll visit in the morning or the afternoon. You're simply forced to take the entire day off and hope for the best.

How on earth most people cope is beyond me. Garry and I are fortunate that I have a job where I can generally work from home. In Sydney most organisations offer weekend delivery, or home visits early morning or mid-evening.

This evening we are back online. Our numerous personal and business are intact. What a day!