"Is that damned computer working yet, Sheila?" I wailed for the fifth hour in succession.
"It's not the computer that's at fault, Mr Studd, it's the connection to the FA server... oh, never mind." Sheila could clearly tell that I wasn't blessed with technical know-how, and as my eyes glazed over from her explanation, she continued her telephone discussion with FA headquarters.
"I tried re-downloading the client software, but it always freezes at 76% complete," Sheila explained to the FA's IT boffins. I looked at the screen. Sure enough, there was the same screen which was on my computer when I arrived in the office this morning:
There was silence on the other end of the telephone. Sheila absorbed the information that was being fed to her. She leant over my keyboard, pressed a few buttons, and suddenly the interface sprang into life. "Yesssss!" she declared, clearly pleased that my IT nightmare (and, by association, her nightmare) was nearing an end. She ended the phonecall, content that things were about to get back to normal."It's all fixed?" I asked, pretending to understand the situation.
"Yeah, all fixed," she replied. "Look, it's currently just authenticating your details." Another blank expression from me. "Just give it a minute, and you'll be in."
Many minutes passed.
"Is that damned computer working yet, Sheila?"The nightmare continued.
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