Never Question Authority

I had never used a PC-type computer before 1999. I was introduced to them when I worked for the Census Bureau - what a marvel they were! I'd seen DOS systems in retail, but this PC thing had games and stuff -and- check this out - it had the internet. Oooh! Sports, comics, news and stuff, but that was it.
Disappointing, it was.
This internet, thought I, was pretty damn limited in both scope and depth. I didn't know enough to realize that our Federal PCs were on an intranet and the reason I could only access a dozen or so sites was a network issue, not a flaw in the internet itself. Still, I found the infernal machine quite useful.

During idle hours I played around on the PCs and learned basic stuff like using clip art to make posters and templates to print CD booklets and other documents for personal use.
My email was some sort of Federal intranet Outlook thing that couldn't communicate with outside networks, or at least wasn't supposed to; that was my only experience with email- letters from my boss and co-workers- so I didn't see much use in it. I was so dim that I thought that all email was like that- in hindsight , some of my co-workers were getting around that security...it was all mysterious to me though.

I was in the "cool! I can read Doonesbury on my computer" stage of PC awareness, but I never really considered buying one- after all , I could use the ones at work for free- they had color printers already set to go.
I got really good at making signs.
I enjoyed making fake signs about non-existent forms and regulations and posting them on walls when no one was looking- a clever stunt I stole from a Discordian dwarf by the name of Markoff Cheney. I worked the 3 to midnight shift and was the last one out most nights, so I had ample time to place my creations in high-traffic areas:

Attention: All Employees!

Effective 12/31/99

Form 2323E will be replaced with
a triplicate Form 9000F
( Usage document only)

Violators will be Notified

-the Mgt.

I'd stroll in at 3pm, half-drunk and stoned off my ass, laughing at people asking each other:
where are the 9000F forms , what is a Usage document?
( my answer: I think it's a Form 2323E, but you can't use those anymore)

Nobody asked what a Form 2323E was, which is what I was counting on since there was no such Form as a 2323E or a 9000F.

To me, this unquestioning obedience to authoritative nonsense was my first real taste of how dehumanizing the modern office environment is, how much it destroys the mind and the soul; it was the first time I knew that if I didn't do something crazy, I would be driven insane.
Before that, I thought only food-service and retail jobs were dehumanizing spirit-killers; only because I'd never had a 'real' office job...

This incident at a McDonald's serves as a vividly horrific example of this principle of dehumanized labor and civics- a man phoned a McDonald's and identified himself as a police officer- the manager didn't question him , didn't think it was odd at all that he instructed her to strip-search a teenage employee. She didn't think it was unusual that this "police officer" would instruct her to...
Well, let's just say that the occurence prompted the prosecuting attorney make this understatement:

Still, he said he found it disturbing that anyone would believe that "sodomy is part of a lawful criminal investigation. There had to be a point where he realized that this wasn't right," Mann said of Nix.

Not only did the manager and her boyfriend jump right into the roles the "mystery cop" assigned them, but the poor cashier didn't have the nerve to question the proceedings either- no one seemed to think that naked jumping-jacks were a bit unneccesary or unorthodox in conducting a theft investigation via phone. Sodomy? Must be OK- the guy says he's a cop, you know? To me, this event is incomprehensible.

No one even bothered calling the real police and asking: " what the fuck is up with this phone investigation crap anyway?"

I see this 'blind sheep' workplace dynamic all the time- for instance, today one of the paralegals asked me if she could use the cart in the downstairs mailroom for a few minutes and "bring it right back".

"Go ahead. It's not mine" , I replied.
I just assume it belongs to the firm, and I use it when I need it. It's not complicated, it's a cart.

"Oh."

She was stuck, hovering in the doorway of my workhole.

"Who should I ask?"

"Why ask anyone? Just use the cart."

"I don't want to get in trouble."

So I wound up moving her boxes for her. I didn't mind doing it, I have nothing to do at work after all, but I can't stop thinking about her question...

"Who should I ask?"

...and the timid, fearful mindsight that leaves a grown woman incapable of taking the slightest initiative without approval from above. I wonder what happens when she needs paperclips?

Does she lurk in the supply room waiting for someone to tell her it's OK to grab a box of clips?

I may be troubled, but at least I can move boxes without pissing myself in fear.