A while ago I had a side gig. It was/is legal and moral to have a side gig (or three). A lot of people freak out about that shit so I kept it on the downlow. I even had a side gig computer. It was almost but not quite air gapped from everything else (it shared WiFi).
Then a lot of changes happened.
They ghosted me (which was ok, it was just a part time gig and at the time I was pretty sick). I kept checking my corporate e-mail. Originally they’d desperately wanted me to be full time but back then I only could do part time. Now that I was retired and getting healthy I could do more… but I wasn’t eager to “push it” with my health. I made a few quiet inquiries about getting some hours of work. When I got no firm response I thought maybe it was for the best. I’m probably not the only one that was cut off. The place had been through a takeover and shit was chaotic. Plus the economy changed; it wasn’t a “growth sector” anymore.
Months later, my corporate e-mail login was denied. I’d expected this. They’d “fixed the glitch”.
I resorted to old fashioned voice calls and badgered my way through the phone tree. Eventually I contacted someone in person who was well meaning and polite. It went like this:
Me: “Hi, do I work for you now?”
Them: “Who the hell are you? I’ll shoot you over to HR.”
HR: Random noises and many paragraphs…
Me: “So, no?”
Them: “Are you going to make us say it?”
Me: “I like clarity. I’m no longer employed right?”
Them: “You are no longer employed. And now that we’ve spoken a simple true thing aloud we all have to go to six more HR training sessions!”
Me: “That’s a shame. I’ll miss you guys. Have a great future.”
Them: “You’re not going to freak out?”
Me: “Um… no. Things change. You’re an employer, not a girlfriend.”
Them: “…”
Months later I made another call.
Me: “I still have your crappy obsolete computer. Why don’t I pull the hard drive and send it to you? That way you’ll have any and all data that ever existed.”
Them: “OMG we need that computer!”
Me: “It’s not real valuable… it was pretty basic when you sent it and that was years ago.”
Them: “We need it! Now! We need every molecule of IT assets. It’s life or death!”
Me: “OK, tell me where to ship it.”
They ghosted me for a while. After several weeks I heard from them again.
Them: “The people that run the IT for the people that bought the company that you no longer work for because they don’t exist need the important IT asset computer back.”
Me: “Remember when I asked where to ship it? Maybe you could tell me this time?”
Them: “Ship it here. Use this account at the local FedEx store.”
There isn’t a FedEx store within a hundred miles of me. Being a loyal former employee I made plans to drive half a day to ship the white elephant.
Them: “It’s been two days, why haven’t you shipped it?”
Me: “The nearest FedEx store is a long drive, I’ll ship it this weekend.”
Them: “That’s slow. We need it asap. Can you take it elsewhere?”
Me: “There’s a place that’s just over an hour’s drive. It’s not FedEx but they might do the job. How about there?”
Them: “We’ll call them and make arrangements. Do it.”
Me: “OK.”
That’s how, a dude who’d “speed retired” and was also “glitch fixed” found himself boxing up a low end workstation. It was a bit of a sad day. I didn’t mind the work when I had it. It would’ve been great to have it again given my increasing health and crappy finances. But as the Rolling Stones say “You can’t always get what you want… but you just might find you get what you need.” I’m not unconvinced God kicked me out of the workforce to force my ass to focus on health. Who am I to ignore fate’s hints?
I wasn’t happy about the long drive to ship it. I could just toss it in the trash. What could they do? Fire me?
But that would be rude. I don’t want to be that guy. It’s a slippery slope of moral shortcuts. It starts with an obsolete computer in the trash, progresses to being the jackoff who doesn’t put the carts away at the grocery store, and (when things go too far) turns you into a Senator. The side gig hadn’t become the awesome career change it might have been, but I’d done good work and they’d been nice to me. That counts for something.
Plus, I absolutely want all former work related gear a million miles from me. I can truthfully tell any lawyer at any time “that shit is gone, I don’t have it, go away”.
I’ve always felt scandalized when people get all skeevy and can’t separate work and life; especially involving data. Even if it’s not corrupt it looks like exactly like corruption. And it’s creepy, low class, bullshit. I don’t want to be Hillary Clinton using an illegal secret server and making up lame excuses. Or Joe Biden with stuff in his garage. Or John Bolton who’s better at growing a mustache than keeping shit clean when hiring a ghost writer. It’s also a lawyer trap waiting to spring regardless of truth. Trump had the most secure storage a billionaire with Secret Service backup can have. He had the best reason to have access to data that a human can have, as a former (and current!) president. Yet they used it as an excuse to lawfare his ass. If they can fuck over a billionaire what could the do to me? Or you?
Be nothing like any of them. Strive to be free of such entanglements.
I had to mail the damn thing; for impractical but moral and mental wellness reasons. That dumb old computer was the last tie. Best to get it done. There’s no valuable data of any sort on it (never was), but the reality of data security is irrelevant. Otherwise I’d ship a hard drive for five bucks and be done with it.
Even so I resented running errands for a former employer. To make the day fun I decided to turn the task into a motorcycle ride.
The mighty PC800 has huge saddlebags (the bedonkadonk) but the monitor wouldn’t fit in it. I said “fuck it”, boxed everything up, and strapped it to the cargo rack. It fit very securely on the PC800’s cargo rack (which I installed last year before I was taken completely out of commission). I uttered the magic words “that’s not going anywhere”, and started my impromptu mini-road trip.
At first I was worried; what if the load shifts? The precious obsolete computer could get rattled. Then I realized it didn’t matter. Were they going to cut my pay? Tell Santa to put me on the naughty list? Take away my birthday? Nobody will ever use this computer again. It’ll sit on a shelf somewhere until it’s (maybe but probably not) wholesaled to a recycling program. Its sole purpose is to populate a cell in some IT department’s “infrastructure depreciation” spreadsheet. I had to ship this crap (at their expense) to maintain an image of, but not actual conditions of, efficiency.
Deep in the bowels of corporate bureaucracy, such things make sense.
I stopped to check the load. To my delight, the package was riding like it was part of the bike’s frame. Just flawless! I’ve ridden many miles on various bikes with all sorts of loads, but this was the easiest it’s been to haul anything that encumbering. Go PC800!
If I didn’t live in the hinterland I’d probably start another side gig with Door Dash.
Anyway, I dropped off the package. It went to wherever it went for whatever goofy reason it was needed. I’m done with it and that’s a relief. I’ll miss the job intellectually but I worked too hard at too many jobs for too many years. Letting go is a deliberate act.
It was meltingly hot. I stopped at a place with good food and better AC. I wisely drank an absurd amount of ice tea. Then I ventured back out in the blast furnace and rode home.
It wasn’t the PC800 motocamping one part of me had planned. It wasn’t the sweet side gig another part of me had planned. But it was a good day.
