Years ago, I was working as a business analyst and thought it would be a good idea to update my CV.
I know a bit about computers but all of my knowledge is self-taught so I have no certificates. I figured I could add some certifications to my CV just by writing the required exams without having to take any classes.
A school close to the office called The Chubbs Institute offered computer training and certification. So on a slow day at work, I looked up the Chubbs Institute website for the prices of their certification exams.
I must have typed in the web address wrong because as I hit Enter, I was transported to a website showcasing naked chubby girls.
I gasped and my jaw dropped.
At work, we sit in these U-shaped cubicles with the computer facing the open end of the U. Anyone coming to your desk sees your PC monitor over your shoulder while you sitting at the desk has to turn around to see who it is.
In the same instant that my screen ushered me into a wonderland of huge women, I heard someone behind me and I turned.
It was not my manager standing there, it was my manager’s boss. He had asked my manager if I was busy and since I wasn’t, he had some work for me.
He was looking past me at the monitor and his eyes were wide.
I looked back at the screen. The girls were still there. I started babbling, my entire body was trembling.
I stammered out, “I- I- ..c- c- …. certifications.”
I was turning back and forth, from him to the computer and back to him, like a cartoon character, trying to explain while trying to close the internet window but every time I X’ed it, more pop-up windows would appear with more girls, bigger girls, and captions like:
‘Going so soon?’
‘Are these big enough for you?’
I knew the situation was bad, but I didn’t realise how bad it was until I heard myself utter the infamous words of guilty people everywhere: “It’s not what it looks like.”
The man, the head of Finance, was still standing at the entrance of my cubicle, his mouth was moving but nothing was coming out.
I thought he was going to have a heart attack. That would have rounded up my day quite nicely, I can imagine the headlines the next day:
“Managing Director, Employee found dead in cubicle in apparent accident/suicide combo. Case baffles investigators as computer continues to spew out pornographic pop-ups”
He finally walked away without saying anything.
After he left, my hands were shaking too much to operate the mouse, so I crawled under the desk and pulled the plug on the computer.
I don’t work there anymore. Let’s just leave it at that.