Norm had finally had enough. Between our crappy, half-ass PCs, the sometimes-on, sometimes-off Internet service, and the fact that someone here “accidentally” left open our wifi network and a certain war-driving friend of said staffer surreptitiously downloaded 16 gigabytes of pirated movies through our network last weekend, Norm is about to vapor-lock from all the pent-up anger. The veins in Norm’s forehead looked like they were about to pop right out Monday morning.

“No more do-it-yourself computer work around here,” announced Norm on Tuesday. “We need a part time professional IT guy around here - the real deal!”

Norm’s “real deal” turned out to be some shifty-looking guy who responded to our Craigslist ad. Erik, our soon-to-be new tech consultant, shuffled in our door this morning, babbling to himself and constantly scratching himself in places we’d rather not have to see. (Where’s the eye-bleach when you need it?)

After a few minutes of deliberations with Norm, and a few pointed comments from Tina about his rag-muffin attire, minimal social skills and general lack of personal hygiene, Erik agreed to reduce his $25 per hour fee to a much more reasonable $10 an hour - on the condition we pay cash and agree not to do any background checks.

Fair enough.

Whipping out a wire cutter and crimp tool, and a USB drive crammed full of software (the origins of which we really don’t want to know), Erik jumped right in, showing us his network-fu. After a couple hours, with cables strung across the walls and ceilings in just about every direction, it looks like some semblance of a network system is beginning to take form here.

Now with Erik on the premises for an hour or two each day, AITS headquarters has better than average Internet service, our computers crash less often, our wireless hub is locked down, and we now have the overpowering smell of armpits and Brut aftershave permeating the newsroom.

This Erik kid’s alright - he gets things done. We’ll keep him around a while. But he really needs to quit babbling to himself all the time. It creeps us out a little.