The Gnome has read many of the stories swirling around the electronic ether about so called 'help desks' and their unwavering ability to make the most simple of problems worse.
He has always felt uneasy about immediately jumping to the obvious conclusion that all help desks were staffed by a plague of imbeciles but may have to revise his opinions after a recent incident.
He returned to work to a new voicemail system. A system which, in the glowing e-mail communications that preceded its arrival, would 'revolutionise telephony services in the 21st century and provide unparalleled levels of user compatibility and functionality without degradation of the essential hominid interpersonal interactivity experience'.
Impressed by the promise of such riches (if not by the copywriter who described them), the Gnome's attempts to access this marvel of technology came to naught and, with the charming naievete for which he is renown, called and requested his PIN be reset.
No answer was forthcoming from the help desk, but on follow up he was told his request had been speedily dealt with and a message left to confirm the new PIN.
A message left on the very same system he was unable to access.