fandomtownies | Trooper Station, Friday

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Trooper Station, Friday

Ray was at work. He was. He had coffee, which was also not the problem. What was the problem was that he'd missed the radio broadcast last night, and now he had to bring it back. Because there was some sort of, uh, what was it called-- bod? Bod past-- cast thingie.

Hence, Ray was ramming on the keys of his keyboard trying to get the thing to appear. Computers were not his friend. "I hate you," he told the screen, "Modern convenience, my ass."

[ open station, woo ]

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Daisy had decided that the morning, which had consisted of a series of delicately hidden yawns, might have merited a go at Coop's Too-Damn-Good-for-a-Station coffee. She also decided that Kowalski's admonitions to the computer merited a bit of a quirk of her eyebrow as she stood away from her own desk doing exactly what she warned Coop that his coffee would do: cause her to just savour it for a bit instead of getting right back to the job.

Ray was ramming one of the keys pretty damn hard. "I said I want internet," he informed the monitor, "Which button do I have to push-- I hate computers!" It had been about fifteen years since his first encounter with computers on the job, and he still felt that it was, like, a complete insult to all things human.

He hadn't really even noticed Daisy, he was so caught up in the thing that should just freaking die already.

Daisy figured that no human being should be faulted for enjoying a show while they could, but eventually she started to feel a little sympathetic for the poor old colleague and, after another long, enjoyable sip, finally asked, "Spot of trouble, there, Kowalski?"

"I hate computers," Ray repeated, like that wasn't completely obvious. He sounded a lot more petulant the second time, though, and pushed off, rolling his chair back a couple of inches. "I want to hear the, uh, bopcast thing for the radio..." he made a gesture with his fingers, "Thingie. Broadcast."

"Podcast," Daisy corrected, holding in her smirk; she straightened from where she was leaning against the counter, moving her mug to one hand, and making her way around to the other side of Ray's desk.

"May I?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, bopcast, modcast, podcast, whatever," he muttered, gesturing widely to show her she could take the damn keyboard and toss it out the window for all he cared. "--Jesus, I sound like Frannie. Um, go ahead."

"Who's Frannie?" Daisy asked, as she leaned over the keyboard, one hand taking to the mouse, and trying to figure out exactly what in the world Ray had inadvertently done to the poor computer.

Edited 2008-11-21 18:38 (UTC)

"Fake sister," Ray said, like that explained everything, "Undercover job." Or that did. "She had trouble with words," not at all pot calling kettle, "Kinda annoying. Um, anyway, how do I start up the internet? 'Cause I think I, uh, lost it."

Needless to say, Ray did not own a computer.

"You didn't lose it," Daisy assured him with a light laugh that she didn't exactly mean to let go. Her focus was mostly on the screen, and her fingers were like a separate entity as she worked her way through Ray's desktop. "Don't worry; it doesn't really go anywhere. I'm not exactly sure what you did do, but I've seen worse. Let's just....Ah! There we go."

She continued working, without explanation, figuring it would probably be hopeless, until she was finished.

"Right," Ray muttered, scratching the back of his head. Hey, all he knew was that there was a thing on there that said 'internet' and if he pressed it the internet better damn well come online or whatever it was that it did. None of which he said out loud because it mighta sounded a little stupid or something. "You said 'there we go', is that a good thing?" he said instead, kinda lamely, catch that one, Ray, "Um, of course it is."

"I'm setting you up," Daisy informed him, fingers flying, mouse clicking, "with a nice nifty desktop shortcut, so that, in the future, all it takes is a couple little clicks, and ta-dah! Podcast. Failproof, I swear."

Although, as she said it, she smirked to herself, expecting that as soon as she backed up and he gave it a try, the damn thing could explode, merely from being at his hands.

"I always knew they were a bad idea," Ray groused, leaning backwards in his seat. "What's wrong with, uh, looking in a damn file or something?" Okay, now he did miss Frannie, who'd at least get him on this one. Or used to. Until she learned how to use them.

Okay, he missed old Frannie. "At least files do what you tell 'em to. Which is open up."

"Which is exactly what this is doing," Daisy explained, "only it's a digital variation. They're even called files on a computer, too."

A few more clicks, a bit more typing, and Daisy grinned a bit at Ray's desktop. She straightened. "Let's see if you sing that same tune in a week, Kowalski. Go on." She nodded. "See that icon on the screen labeled 'podcast'? A shortcut for you, will take you right to the place you need to be to download and listen to it, in just a few simple clicks."

"And," she added, "no thread of papercuts with these files."

"Papercuts, I can deal with," Ray argued, "But my fingers are getting kinda bruised."

What? It wasn't his fault you couldn't kick a keyboard in the head until it started working. "Okay, so I click the podcast thingie, the podcast appears, I listen and know what's up. Right?"

"Not quite," Daisy said. "You click the Podcast icon, that takes you to the download site, and from there, pick which broadcast, click that link, and then it'll download and you open the file to listen to it."

"I hate computers in the workplace," he muttered, "Hate 'em. I could work 'em ten years ago, but all of this 'online' and 'icon' and 'link' stuff-- do we really need it?" Yeah, okay, maybe Ray was getting old, but damn if he'd admit to it.

"A week of getting used to using the thing," Daisy said, "and you'll swear by its convenience, I mean it."

He waved a hand in her general direction. "They said that ten years ago," Ray replied, "Then five, then two. I can look up stuff in a database fine." He did have his pride, after all. "That's not real cop work."

"You clearly haven't been working with the same sorts of crooks I have," Daisy commented. "Anything that can be used by a criminal to break the law and go against the flow of greater justice is cop work. It's amazing the sorts of things people can do with computers and think they can get away with it."

Ray shrugged both of his shoulders. He was really feeling his age now. "I like crooks I can just kick in the head, and bam, it's all over, busted," he said.

Edited 2008-11-21 19:48 (UTC)

Daisy laughed just a bit at that and asked, "Is that proper protocol in the States?"

"Protocol, I dunno," Ray said, shrugging again as he wheeled his chair forwards, "Always worked for me, though." He grinned, and tailed that one off with a snicker.

"I'll leave the head kicking to you, then," Daisy said, "and I'll stick with all the hacker junk."j

"You need anybody's head kicked in," he said, formally-like (well, for his standards, anyway), "You let me know. The bad guys, they shake. Wham." He punched the air.

Not so old, now. Ha.

Politely ignoring the contradiction of punching the air when one was speaking of kicking, Daisy nodded. "Will do, Kowlaski. I imagine with a force as small as this one, it's good for us to play on our areas of strength."

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