Read Online Dog Helps Those (Golden Retriever Mysteries) by Neil S. Plakcy - Free Book Online
Authors: Neil S. Plakcy
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too. “Students keep complaining to our office staff.”
“Then your staff needs to put in a service request.”
“We do that, almost every day,” Shir-something said. “But you need to manage your equipment better.”
“I’m happy to remove the computers from your lobby if you prefer,” Verri said, pointing outside. She wore no jewelry beyond a plain watch, and no polish on her fingernails. She probably used a DOS-based computer, too. No fancy icon-based systems for her. “Frankly I’d be happiest if we restricted on-campus computer use to as few people as possible.”
“You can take that up separately,” Dot said. “Let’s get back on track here.”
She explained the process of degree audits; apparently the online system wasn’t working properly, so each student who wanted to graduate would have to schedule an appointment with an advisor.
“There’s no way we can meet with every graduating student in the next two weeks,” Shir-something protested. “Verri, can’t you make the system work properly?”
“I don’t appreciate your personal attacks,” Verri said. “If you have a problem, you need to call the help desk and put in a ticket.”
“The help desk phone number is always busy,” Jim Shelton said. “I call at least once a week with a problem in my office or in a classroom. All I get is a recorded message telling me to send an email.”
Verri looked at him like he was stupid. “If you and the rest of the faculty didn’t make so many requests, we wouldn’t be so overwhelmed.”
“They aren’t requests, Verri,” he said. “If you maintained the computers on campus better, or you let faculty download programs they need, we wouldn’t be calling you all the time.”
“I have more productive things to do than listen to your gripes.” Verri stood up. “Dot, you can email me meeting notes with anything you need from my department.”
“My email address is corrupted,” Dot said. “I’ve been waiting three days for a tech to come to my office and fix it.”
“Put in another request,” Verri said. “I can’t do anything for you unless you go through the proper channels.”
She turned and strode out of the conference room. The foam rubber soles of her orthopedic shoes squeaked on the hardwood floors. “Well,” Dot said, sighing. “Where were we?”
It was Phil Berry’s turn next. He was an African-American guy in his mid-thirties with close-cropped black hair and skin the color of milk chocolate, a financial geek who had worked at one of the big Wall Street firms and escaped before it imploded. Now he managed the college’s investments. Most of the time I could barely follow him because of all the financial jargon.
He pulled out his BlackBerry and punched a couple of keys.
Okay, Phil Berry was black, and he had a BlackBerry. I suppressed a giggle as he started to speak. Dot had given him the responsibility for coordinating our commencement speakers, and for once I understood everything he said.
The meeting dragged on all morning and I started to wonder if we were ever going to finish. A few minutes before noon, Fred Searcy said, “Sorry, folks, I have a class.”
He stood up. Dot Sneiss said, “I think we’ve covered everything. I’ll send out the meeting notes and then we’ll reconvene in a week.”
I walked out with Fred. “I don’t really have a class,” he said. “But Dot will go on all day if you let her. I need my lunch.”
I laughed, and continued down the hall to my own office. As soon as I walked in the door, Rochester jumped up and nuzzled me. “You want to go for a quick walk?”
He went into the downward-facing dog yoga position, always an indication that he was ready to play, and I hooked up his leash. I opened the french doors and we walked out into the chilly sunshine.
We strolled around the azaleas, blossoming in shades of red and purple. A bee buzzed around the blossoms of a honeysuckle that grew on a wooden trellis. While Rochester
“Then your staff needs to put in a service request.”
“We do that, almost every day,” Shir-something said. “But you need to manage your equipment better.”
“I’m happy to remove the computers from your lobby if you prefer,” Verri said, pointing outside. She wore no jewelry beyond a plain watch, and no polish on her fingernails. She probably used a DOS-based computer, too. No fancy icon-based systems for her. “Frankly I’d be happiest if we restricted on-campus computer use to as few people as possible.”
“You can take that up separately,” Dot said. “Let’s get back on track here.”
She explained the process of degree audits; apparently the online system wasn’t working properly, so each student who wanted to graduate would have to schedule an appointment with an advisor.
“There’s no way we can meet with every graduating student in the next two weeks,” Shir-something protested. “Verri, can’t you make the system work properly?”
“I don’t appreciate your personal attacks,” Verri said. “If you have a problem, you need to call the help desk and put in a ticket.”
“The help desk phone number is always busy,” Jim Shelton said. “I call at least once a week with a problem in my office or in a classroom. All I get is a recorded message telling me to send an email.”
Verri looked at him like he was stupid. “If you and the rest of the faculty didn’t make so many requests, we wouldn’t be so overwhelmed.”
“They aren’t requests, Verri,” he said. “If you maintained the computers on campus better, or you let faculty download programs they need, we wouldn’t be calling you all the time.”
“I have more productive things to do than listen to your gripes.” Verri stood up. “Dot, you can email me meeting notes with anything you need from my department.”
“My email address is corrupted,” Dot said. “I’ve been waiting three days for a tech to come to my office and fix it.”
“Put in another request,” Verri said. “I can’t do anything for you unless you go through the proper channels.”
She turned and strode out of the conference room. The foam rubber soles of her orthopedic shoes squeaked on the hardwood floors. “Well,” Dot said, sighing. “Where were we?”
It was Phil Berry’s turn next. He was an African-American guy in his mid-thirties with close-cropped black hair and skin the color of milk chocolate, a financial geek who had worked at one of the big Wall Street firms and escaped before it imploded. Now he managed the college’s investments. Most of the time I could barely follow him because of all the financial jargon.
He pulled out his BlackBerry and punched a couple of keys.
Okay, Phil Berry was black, and he had a BlackBerry. I suppressed a giggle as he started to speak. Dot had given him the responsibility for coordinating our commencement speakers, and for once I understood everything he said.
The meeting dragged on all morning and I started to wonder if we were ever going to finish. A few minutes before noon, Fred Searcy said, “Sorry, folks, I have a class.”
He stood up. Dot Sneiss said, “I think we’ve covered everything. I’ll send out the meeting notes and then we’ll reconvene in a week.”
I walked out with Fred. “I don’t really have a class,” he said. “But Dot will go on all day if you let her. I need my lunch.”
I laughed, and continued down the hall to my own office. As soon as I walked in the door, Rochester jumped up and nuzzled me. “You want to go for a quick walk?”
He went into the downward-facing dog yoga position, always an indication that he was ready to play, and I hooked up his leash. I opened the french doors and we walked out into the chilly sunshine.
We strolled around the azaleas, blossoming in shades of red and purple. A bee buzzed around the blossoms of a honeysuckle that grew on a wooden trellis. While Rochester
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