The magical computer faeries finally arrived today with my new desktop and after telling the installation guy who had the deadly combination of horrible breath and a soft voice that required leaning in to hear him that I’d been at BMS before he simply left without telling me my new password.  I called him as he’d left his card and he said he couldn’t tell me my password and that I’d have to call in to do a manual password reset that history informed me takes about an hour.  I resigned myself losing my afternoon in a labyrinthine bureaucracy until I saw that he’d left his notebook containing the remaining set-ups and passwords for the rest of his jobs that day.  I called again:
Me: Mr. X, are you missing something?
Him: What do you mean?
Me: Oh, I don’t know.  A certain yellow datebook with a list of executive passwords in it?
Him: I’ll swing by and pick it up.  Leave it on your desk.
Me: The book could be lost again before you get here.  I certainly can’t be responsible for your stuff…
Him: What do you want.
Me: My password… now.
Him: I can’t that violates our firm’s policy I’ve told you that…
Me: Could you hold on, your notebook appears to have disappeared.
Him: Okay! I’ll tell you.  I’ll be over in about an hour.
Me: Half an hour.
Him: 45 minutes.
Me: Deal.
I hung up the phone and resumed petting my Persian cat in my high-back leather chair.