The other day a perfectly legit, newsworthy-looking, e-mail landed in my inbox. Without giving it much thought I clicked through... Et viola! I became the latest lucky recipient of some diabolical creation, courtesy of a bored 15-year-old from the old Soviet Block.
“Mazel Tov Comrade!” I yelled with joy whilst reaching for a bottle of Vodka, and not a minute too soon mind you.
Corrupting my files faster than you can say, “Invest with Fidentia” this delightful Trojan creation obliterated all my latest project work, amongst other things.
With a throat as dry as a Savanna advertisement I phoned my IT connection. “Hello mate!” I said with a tremble that tore though my flimsy attempt to sound casual, manly, and collected. “What now?” the deadpan response revealed unrivalled disinterest. “I think we have a problem,” I blurted out the rather obvious.
“What do you mean, WE?”
While I tried my best to explain what had happened I could swear I heard dull rhythmical thuds over the line. I suspected that Simon* was trying to knock himself unconscious with the latest edition of Brainstorm Magazine (or his laptop bag) but thought it best not to ask.
“Flippen virus, damn kids, bloody TV I tell you!” I blamed the world for my lost data woes. . .
Sitting there in a messed heap, clutching (the steadily emptying) bottle of Vodka and with Simon's bad news still ringing in my ears - I decided that admitting to losing all my data to a diabolical teen creation was just not going to cut it, so I thought of a few, more glamorous-sounding, excuses:
The mugging: One hard-working individual versus three unsavoury characters from the wrong side of the tracks. I didn't stand a chance, boss. I put up a good fight mind you, managing to catch one mugger off-guard with my Karate Kid “praying mantis” kick but to no avail.
I'm just lucky to have escaped with my life intact.
The (near) abduction: I was driving home (after a late night meeting) when, all of a sudden, a bright light hovered over my car like a giant fruit fly. The engine cut out, my headlights dimmed and the radio dialled itself to Radio Sonder Grense...
It was a phone-in show. It will haunt me until the end of days.
Then two, long, bony fingers reached through my passenger window, grabbing my laptop with the expertise of a Rosebank smash and grabber, before disappearing into the dark night under a cloud of smoke and dust.
I am happy to be here today, (un)probed.
The safari incident: Deciding to do a little bit of work (of course) I set out to finish that report from the viewing deck on a friend's game farm. I was just hitting my stride when a troop of wild-eyed bush baboons surrounded me. I tried to stare them down, giving the leader the lazy eye whilst attempting to growl like the king of the jungle.
They didn't buy it, boss, and I had to hightail it out of there and into the Land Cruiser faster than an escapee dashing from C-Max. Unfortunately my notebook was my sacrifice.
Most likely, by now, it's been gnawed to a slimy pulp.
The breakup: My wife left me because I work too much.
In an emotionally unstable moment I tore the clothes from my body and updated my Facebook profile, before torching all my belongings in the back garden (laptop included). I have no excuse but temporary insanity boss. Unfortunately our second quarter presentation is lost to the gods of love forever...
Yup, would you buy any of the above? Do you have a better excuse for losing your data? If so please e-mail your best data loss story (or gripe if you are the one tasked with helping users get lost data back) to marketing@cibecs.com.
Obviously it's best to avoid losing the data that makes your business tick altogether.
Visit our Website to find out more about Cibecs' automated data backup and recovery solution for your business or enterprise.
Or not.
You can always blame it on the dog.
For more information on protecting your business-critical data, visit http://www.cibecs.com or phone +27 (11) 791 0073.
Share