Testing Times
I was sitting in my office one morning, reading and deleting emails, when a parcel was delivered by a messenger who insisted on my signing his book without letting me first see what was in the small cardboard box.
"How do I know I want what's in it?" I asked, trying not to take the pen he offered me.
"You won't want it, it's nothing but trouble," he answered, 'that's why we have to make everybody sign first".
I took his pen and signed his form, and then managed to give him my own pen in return. It had run out of ink a week ago and I had vowed never again to go through the stationary requisition process.
Inside the box was a small machine with two wires ending in little clips, a dial, and a rotary handle like a musical box. There were also two rolls of labels, one with green writing, one with red writing, and a sheet of instructions.
I turned the handle several times, but it didn't play any tunes that I could hear, and when I touched the two clips at the ends of the wires they gave me a nasty shock that made me jump and bite my lip, so I read the instructions.
"Dear Recipient," they began, and I disliked the writer immediately. I am not a recipient, and I resent being labelled one by someone whom I have never met and who could not possibly see what I actually look like.
"Welcome to the world of Portable Appliance Testing (PAT)," they continued, and my hate for the writer rose up and boiled. If there is one thing I detest more than three-letter-acronyms it is people who insist on defining them where they are first used, instead of creating a glossary with all of the terms collected together for easy reference plus a table-of-contents to show where the glossary actually is.
"Please follow these instructions carefully. It is your responsibility to see that any portable electrical appliance in your workspace is PAT-tested and clearly shown as such". I winced at the ugly nature of the phrase 'Portable Appliance Testing-Tested' which resulted from the expansion of the acronym, but put my aesthetic feelings aside to concentrate on the responsibility being asked of me.
"Step 1: unplug the appliance to be tested". Very well, I thought, unplugging the aquarium. The steady bubbling stopped and the light under the hood went out. The fish stopped what they had been doing and looked at each other.
"Step 2: attach the clips to the two contacts at the bottom of the plug that are in common-orientation". I had no idea what the author intended by that last phrase, but I dutifully attached the clips to two of the metal bars that stuck out from the plug.
"Step 3: rotate the handle several times until a steady reading is shown by the needle". I did so, vigorously turning the handle until the needle moved across to a red portion of the dial, and kept winding for a few seconds in case the needle should show any inclination to waver. It stayed resolutely in the red.
"Step 4: observe the meter reading, and select a label according to the colour shown on the scale. Write the date and your initials on the label and attach it to the plug." I peeled off a red label and began to write on it, but the pen that the delivery man had left me ran out of ink, and I resolved to have words with him the next time we met. I stuck the label on the plug anyway.
"Step 5: Congratulations! You have just completed the test. If you stuck a green label on the plug then your appliance is safe to use for the next 12 months, providing that the label remains attached. If however the label was a red one the appliance is unsafe and should not be used". I looked at the aquarium. The fish had all turned upside down and were floating near to the surface. I felt relieved that I had found the faulty aquarium by means of this new tester instead of possibly getting a dangerous shock when feeding the fish.
I unplugged the computer monitor and repeated the test. It too gave a red reading, and I marked it accordingly. I tried all the other pieces of equipment and was amazed to find that not a single one was safe to use. It certainly justified the time I had been forced to set aside for this task. I forgave the writer his sins, grave as they were; it would have been ungrateful not to have done otherwise. I, and many others, doubtless owed him our lives.
I had one red label left on the roll but all of the green ones still unused, and on an impulse, connected the two clips to each other and turned the handle. The dial showed green, even after a particularly vigorous burst of cranking. I put a green label on it, repacked it in the box, and went to find the messenger to get my pen back.
"How do I know I want what's in it?" I asked, trying not to take the pen he offered me.
"You won't want it, it's nothing but trouble," he answered, 'that's why we have to make everybody sign first".
I took his pen and signed his form, and then managed to give him my own pen in return. It had run out of ink a week ago and I had vowed never again to go through the stationary requisition process.
Inside the box was a small machine with two wires ending in little clips, a dial, and a rotary handle like a musical box. There were also two rolls of labels, one with green writing, one with red writing, and a sheet of instructions.
I turned the handle several times, but it didn't play any tunes that I could hear, and when I touched the two clips at the ends of the wires they gave me a nasty shock that made me jump and bite my lip, so I read the instructions.
"Dear Recipient," they began, and I disliked the writer immediately. I am not a recipient, and I resent being labelled one by someone whom I have never met and who could not possibly see what I actually look like.
"Welcome to the world of Portable Appliance Testing (PAT)," they continued, and my hate for the writer rose up and boiled. If there is one thing I detest more than three-letter-acronyms it is people who insist on defining them where they are first used, instead of creating a glossary with all of the terms collected together for easy reference plus a table-of-contents to show where the glossary actually is.
"Please follow these instructions carefully. It is your responsibility to see that any portable electrical appliance in your workspace is PAT-tested and clearly shown as such". I winced at the ugly nature of the phrase 'Portable Appliance Testing-Tested' which resulted from the expansion of the acronym, but put my aesthetic feelings aside to concentrate on the responsibility being asked of me.
"Step 1: unplug the appliance to be tested". Very well, I thought, unplugging the aquarium. The steady bubbling stopped and the light under the hood went out. The fish stopped what they had been doing and looked at each other.
"Step 2: attach the clips to the two contacts at the bottom of the plug that are in common-orientation". I had no idea what the author intended by that last phrase, but I dutifully attached the clips to two of the metal bars that stuck out from the plug.
"Step 3: rotate the handle several times until a steady reading is shown by the needle". I did so, vigorously turning the handle until the needle moved across to a red portion of the dial, and kept winding for a few seconds in case the needle should show any inclination to waver. It stayed resolutely in the red.
"Step 4: observe the meter reading, and select a label according to the colour shown on the scale. Write the date and your initials on the label and attach it to the plug." I peeled off a red label and began to write on it, but the pen that the delivery man had left me ran out of ink, and I resolved to have words with him the next time we met. I stuck the label on the plug anyway.
"Step 5: Congratulations! You have just completed the test. If you stuck a green label on the plug then your appliance is safe to use for the next 12 months, providing that the label remains attached. If however the label was a red one the appliance is unsafe and should not be used". I looked at the aquarium. The fish had all turned upside down and were floating near to the surface. I felt relieved that I had found the faulty aquarium by means of this new tester instead of possibly getting a dangerous shock when feeding the fish.
I unplugged the computer monitor and repeated the test. It too gave a red reading, and I marked it accordingly. I tried all the other pieces of equipment and was amazed to find that not a single one was safe to use. It certainly justified the time I had been forced to set aside for this task. I forgave the writer his sins, grave as they were; it would have been ungrateful not to have done otherwise. I, and many others, doubtless owed him our lives.
I had one red label left on the roll but all of the green ones still unused, and on an impulse, connected the two clips to each other and turned the handle. The dial showed green, even after a particularly vigorous burst of cranking. I put a green label on it, repacked it in the box, and went to find the messenger to get my pen back.
posted by Sopwith-Camel | 6:35 pm
3 Comments:
Does an aquarium really fall within the definition of portable? Mine, so my furtiture removers told me, when they calculated the volume of water it held, weighs half a ton, when full.
It sounds more like a Jaccuzi than a swimming pool :)
nightmare
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