Keyboards
In my first 'proper' job, my boss smoked cigarettes, and typed with the offending object between index and middle finger. His keyboard was covered in crud, and most of the lesser used character keys were unreadable. Fortunately I never had to use his terminal.
In my third employment, after a rearrangement of the offices, I 'inherited' a keyboard and PC from the Director who smoked. The keyboard was filthy, so I spent a while cleaning it, until I was prepared to type on it without wearing rubber gloves. A little while later I was moved to a new desk for some work, with another crud-encrusted keyboard, which I dutifully cleaned. At the next move I realised what was going on and just cleaned all of the keyboards one day. I never had to move desk again. (I mean, for goodness' sake, they could have just ASKED me to clean the keyboards, you know, I was only a senior consultant, it was not like any of the junior consultants could possibly have wielded the spray can and cloth, or, heaven forfend either of the directors.)
Biting the hand that feeds IT
