I, for those time, combining work in a small company and studied computer engineering in college. It was a very technical company founded by academics who are dedicated to hardware and software to measure and worked almost exclusively for public agencies. I went through a phase of discovery and delivery was work so strong that even many days sleeping there in a sleeping bag and got up when he entered the cleaning lady. I felt the company as my own (sense than ever after I returned to have) and really enjoyed my job. Freaky right? Anyway, as the wise man said nothing lasts forever and the money was who destroyed the idyllic ecosystem ... One of the machines we design and call number-92 (now that I think we were pioneers ahead of Microsoft in years to put the names of the products ... I'm about to sue them) was so successful that sold like hotcakes and the money started to enter the company expuertas ... money which, of course, did not affect never in my list or that of my colleagues but in the heads-member-teachers of the company (and one more than in others, it must be said too) and began creating misgivings and personal feuds between our little family ... Bad thing.
We were in this situation when one partner came one day saying he had to harness the pull of the company and believed that he had to hire a marketing expert to do so. Moreover, he had the right person, an American expert on 'marketing' and such things as esoteric in those days in our country.
A American! My mother. To me, a Seville world ventipocos years less than the slippers of a cloistered nun, an American image of these features was undoubtedly the Melanie Griffith "Working Girl." A sex bomb ... As you see, no ... Michele, that was the name the expert, was more similar to our Cristina Almeida to Melanie that. To be more precise sister's partner was so happily proposed incorporation. And the expert, well ...
"Michelon, so the baptized immediately, bringing marketing ideas more appropriate for users of Nutella that of an engineering company. His first and most brilliant idea (the truth is that we leave time for little else) was to create "club business users." He then began to send around the world as if it were the head, brochures, surveys, forms, 'mailings' ... because she, of course, did nothing just 'created' concepts then we the technicians of the company we had to put down on paper by graphic harvard wordperfect and retreats for this on our beloved arrays of pointers to pointers that were the really motivated us ... hell.
Necesitábmos out of the way in this alien monstrosity, so after a quick study quickly found their weak point: the minesweeper. Michelon is devoted exclusively to play Minesweeper between each of its creative explosion. Minesweeper for hours while we were spending to make the forms of "satisfaction surveys of users of the club." The solution was very fast: we substitute the minesweeper executable by a rigged by "hooks" that capture certain events (time spent playing, game results, etc..) And published in a document of a public directory of our network novell. Through these 'public statistics' we discover that not only spent many hours a game (which we knew) but also of no help because he was hopelessly ill-served by playing ...
From there everything went smoothly. We just had to 'pass' the story to the right people in the business as if it were a game ... quickly reached the ears of some of the members (of whom, except his brother, were also pretty 'fly' with this club of users) and the illustrious Michelon was summarily dismissed.
I must admit that this first performance as BOFH left a bittersweet taste. The satisfaction of feeling superior to ordinary mortals and having got what he wanted was caused couples to remorse for the consequences ... But remorse is very fast passed and the story has been 'growing' over the years (good BOFH's, like fishermen, magnify their feat in proportion to the number of times the count) and has made me have a good time telling it in the forums ...
the style of these movies based on true facts imagine this on a black background with white lettering verticamelte moving on the screen: Michele divorced two years after his brother and brother went back to the U.S. He returned to Coca-Cola, a company of which he had left to live his Latin romance, and work there without devising new user clubs with which to torment the firm's clients. Our company continued to deteriorate, more committed employees we left, some members also and at the end of his life, eventually converted into an electrical installation company that ended up closing. The End.
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