Friday, June 10, 2005

Such a painful day in so many ways

The Empire can be really inefficient with issues of infrastructure. All day, I waited for the Imperial technologies (IT) department to come and pack up my computer for movement to my new "Death Star" space - remember, they don't have offices there. Their specific instructions included deactivating the vid screen, comm system, and leaving the door wide open so IT's astromech droid could push the packing crates through and begin disassembly.

And of course, I have to be here for this to happen. Essentially, this means that I must stay in my offoffice with the door open (and look busy when someone walks by) with no computer, vid, or holo access. This must be what it was like to be a prisoner of war during the Clone Wars. During the day, I actually wish I had work to do so I could at least focus on something - anything! The IT department said they'd arrive between 8 AM and 5 PM and that my presence was required or they wouldn't start working.

I wonder if they do this when Vader's hyperbaric chamber malfunctions. "Excuse me Lord Vader, but you must be there from 8 AM to 5 PM. Otherwise, we won't be able to fix your motorized rotating chair. Yes, we are aware that this is a hassle, but we have a set queue and we must follow it. Standard Imperial policy."

Here's how my day went.

8:52 - Conted backwards from 100 n every language that I knew, balanced a pen across the bill of my Imperial officer cap, checked my teeth for any food stuck in from breakfast, and counted the number of tiles in my office ceiling (89). So far, so good. I also did not dwell upon the humiliating exchange with Officer Hot Stuff from two days ago. (writing this does not count.)

10:50 - Still no IT astromech or personnel. I'm getting a little hungry. 4 people have passed by my office since 9:00. No one has stopped to say hi.

12:20 - Still no sign. I wish I could call them to find out what was up, but I had to disconnect all means of communication. Is it cheating if I put it back together to make the call or would they throw me in the brig for breaking Imperial protocol? Sometimes, I wish we weren't such a structured community. My stomach is starting to growl.

1:30 - I really need to pee. How serious can they be about the "you must be present" rule? If I leave and they show up, will they take off and repeat the whole ordeal tomorrow?

1:36 - I have no cups in the office. Otherwise, I would have peed in one. It's that bad.

2:15 - A rancor has apprently nested itself in my stomach and decided to loudly complain about its environment. ROOOOOOAAAAAAARR goes the stomach.

2:45 - I have flagged down a passing officer to stand in my place while I either run to the toilet or run to the mess hall. He's got a meeting at 3, so I can't take too long. I must choose.

2:46 - Proximity has won. I choose the toilet because it is closer.

2:52 - Oh man. This is better than naked Twi'Leks hand feeding me fruit on the beaches of Dantooine. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh...

2:54 - I am saved! A vending machine is on my way back!

2:55 - It's not taking my credits. Bloody hell...

2:56 - Why won't you take my credits? WHY?!?!?!?

2:58 - I limp/run back to my office after kicking the vending machine several times. Bladder = good. Foot = possibly broken. Stomach = still rancor infested.

2:59 - Holy crap! Look who stopped by! The friendly officer holding my spot said,"Oh good, you're back. I have to go to my meeting now. IT didn't stop by, but a woman did. Redhead, I think she works in the hanger bay. She said she'd stop by tomorrow." That has just possibly made this all worth it. Then again, maybe not.

3:00 - Holy crap! I won't be in this office tomorrow. And I ship out the day after. I shouldn't have avoided our regular elevator trip together over the past two days - I knew breakfast couldn't have been that bad.

3:01 - Breakfast...mmm...food

3:58 - To pass the time, I shuffle through my papers in my desk drawer. There is half of a wrapped stale breakfast muffin. I eat it. The rancor is happy.

4:42 - IT finally arrives. The astromech droid rolls towards my computer, sticks out a socket, unlocks some stuff, and the IT guys pick up the computer and put it in the packing crate.

GM: "That's it? That's why you needed me here today?"

IT: "Yes sir. You must be here to sign the release form authorizing our movement of your computer to the Death Star."

GM: "Couldn't I have left you a note? I've been starving all day and I almost exploded from not going to the toilet."

IT: "No sir, this is how it works. Standard Imperial policy. If you wish to change it, you could start a petition and submit it to the Emperor. If he is willing to change the policy, you can have a private audience expressing your problems with your moving day."

GM: "Maybe I can get Vader to sign my petition. Have you guys worked on his hyperbaric chamber lately?"

IT: "That's in five days, between 8 AM and 5 PM."

Apparently, no one gets any slack - not even the ones with magic choking powers.

Well, my work is done on the Devastator. Tomorrow, I'll try to hunt down Officer Hot Stuff and see if she decided that she'd rather be infatuated with me than the "Death Star," play some pazaak with the turbolaser boys, and have my exit interview with Grand Moff Dabow.

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