Let’s be honest. Everyone is jealous of us IT folks if for no other reason than we have access to the server room. It’s important, mysterious and powerful; everything that we wish was true of us (instead of just being ignored, marginalized and pasty). If there are any windows looking into your server room, you will see a fresh set of greasy face and fingerprints on it each day because people can’t help themselves when they see pretty patch cables and blinken lichten. If you notice any other greasy body parts have been pressed against it, call security immediately.
IT people like the server room for the impenetrable sense of solace which comes from a room that needs a key card or a Ford F350 traveling at highway speeds to get into. When the pressures of userland get to be too much for us, we can always sit in the cool isle, sip a Red Bull and plug straight into the OC-24 line to play Halo 3 on our favorite team server.
Oh sure, if the Halon/FM-250 dumps then we’ve got roughly 24 seconds to save our game and bequeath our level 80 WoW character to our nearest kin, but that’s what shell scripts are for, right? I’ve had nightmares about being locked inside the server room just like that Brady Bunch episode where the kids get locked in Sam’s meat locker and only Bobby was small enough to wiggle through a broken window on the door. It’s for that very reason that I bribe a child from the corporate daycare center to sit behind the Catalyst 9000 with a hammer and wait for my signal. I just hope no one asks where all the graham cracker crumbs are coming from.
Speaking of food in the server room, there’s no better place to have an IT picnic than in a sealed room where the accounting department can’t infiltrate. Because, if they did manage to get inside we’d have to explain how twenty-two large triple-meat pizzas for only 9 people is a business expense. And we’d have to turn in our receipts before we could attempt to tamper with the line items… namely that item involving two rolls of quarters from the cashier to play Q*Bert with.
All this server room love gets an epic ice bath when we discover that members of the executive team have access. Does the CEO really need to get into this room? The same man who swore that it was our wireless network interfering with the remote controls for his 40 inch flat screen TV mounted above his desk does not need to be in the same room with the database servers (hint: remotes need batteries to work). He shouldn’t be in the same room with a Furby.
Even worse is when members of the building maintenance crew have access. CEOs are trouble enough, but they don’t usually carry screwdrivers or reciprocating saws. Of course, it’s only a matter of time before we reverse engineer security’s keycard system and lock everyone but us out. Then we’ll retreat to our icy depths and begin our long awaited takeover.
I hope security will let Pizza Hut deliver.