Three stories from a senior engineer of KVT
Hello everyone! My name is Ivan Noskov, a little known in the telecom community as ivntv. This year I turned 50, more than 20 of them I have been in telecom, including 10 at MTS. I came to the position of senior engineer little by little, from an installer. In this article I will tell you about several stories that happened to me along the way. And at the same time I will show how nature takes its toll even on lifeless roofs.
A shortcut to friendly conversation
A blinding flash, a deafening BOOM – for a while I lost my sight and hearing… When the perception of reality gradually began to return, I found myself half-lying on the landing of the top floor of an apartment building. To the left of me, my partner was lying and tossing and turning, to the right, a local resident was standing on all fours and stupidly shaking his head.
The request was routine and did not foreshadow anything unusual: no response house knot. Most likely, no power supply. This address was not listed in the reported outages, the management also replied that they did not know the case… However, a visit is necessary… Upon arrival at the site, as expected, I saw the machine turned off. The joy was great, because there was no need to climb to the technical floor. But the happiness did not last long: after turning on the remote control did not rise.
After a short meeting with my partner, we decided to take a closer look at the electrical panel before heading into the attic. As it turned out, it was worth it! We removed the protective screen and saw that the incoming jumper with nut on the machine gun is cut off, and very roughly. Again, there is little that is surprising – such events happen all the time. In the work bag there are always a couple of pieces of PVS and VVG, just for such cases.
I start preparing materials and tools for restoration, and at that moment the apartment door opens and a man comes out onto the landing. He is large, half a head taller than me, broader in the shoulders. At a guess, he weighs about 110-115 kilograms, but he is not flabby, rather strong and healthy. He is dressed in tights and a blue striped T-shirt. There is a specific expression in his eyes that does not bode well for us… I look at him and understand: now it will begin!
The old boxing reflex kicks in: get ahead of the game! Trying to put on the most pleasant expression, I loudly greet the big guy who comes out:
– Hello!
“Hello,” the gloomy big guy replies, “what are you doing here?”
— We are restoring the Internet and television, I mean the power supply.
– And I disconnected that. The local electrician told me that you were connected by me…
– No, sir, you and your electrician are mistaken. Our machine is simply on the same DIN rail as yours, there is simply nowhere else to put it. It is powered from the incoming nut, completely independent of you…
What follows is a discussion in which the tenant expresses doubts about the veracity of my arguments. I try hard to convince him of my own sincerity, honesty, and the integrity of the company as a whole.
The arguments do not work, and the discourse risks moving from the conversational genre to the applied and even dance genre with the hopak, lezginka and Polovtsian dances. At this point, the partner, trying to help and bring up more arguments, with the words: “Well, look, here is the general phase!!!” – snatches the indicator from my breast pocket of the work overalls and pokes it at the shield.
Apparently, the colleague was a little worried. It's understandable: the guy was too big and scary. Apparently, the local electrician didn't approach his duties very responsibly. These local electricians of small TSNs are a whole separate topic. Due to a combination of circumstances, as well as the fact that the distance between the phase and the neutralized body was very small, my friend short-circuited it… BOOM… And the three of us are lying like daisies near the electrical panel!
The epilogue of the story is simple and even trivial. After everything that happened, when we helped each other up and looked around for irreversible consequences, the big guy became more balanced and open to constructive dialogue. We restored the power supply. The remote control started working. During a friendly conversation, we convinced the tenant of the quality of our services and he became our subscriber. We even made two sales, since besides him, there were people on the stairwell shouting: “They're beating ours!” — our friend's neighbors ran out. Now, if the service signal is lost, these responsible customers go out and check the machine themselves, and sometimes even turn it on.
Karma
I receive a request for lack of Internet and TV services. The equipment monitoring program shows that the house unit is “dead”, that is, not active and not monitored. My first thought: electricity? I arrive at the place and run to the entrance to check the machine. The circuit breaker is on, the power goes to the technical floor. So, the problem is in the closet in the attic. The attic is locked, the key is in the management company, the management company works until 17:00, does not issue keys after 16:00, the time is 16:30. Basically, no options … But I still need to check.
I run into the manager's office (fortunately it's not far away) and see three women. I assess the situation, consider my chances and switch to charm mode. Trying to give my face the most polite-pleading-pleasant expression, I say:
Hello! What good do you need to do for such nice ladies to get access to the technical floor with your ID?
I study the reaction. I see dissatisfied, tired faces. I can already roughly predict the result. And suddenly the youngest one starts smiling – really smiling, smiling, widely, openly, sincerely. Somewhat perplexed, I smile back at her. And she, continuing to smile, says to me:
— You know, you hooked us up to cable TV about 15 years ago. I was still in elementary school then. You came, installed everything, set it up, started switching channels, got to Nickelodeon and said: “Here, beauty, this is especially for you.” And you and your parents went off to fill out the paperwork.
– Wow! – I answer her with genuine surprise. – And you remember?
– Yes, – he says, – I remember. I remember it very well, one of the most vivid memories of my childhood. You, by the way, haven't changed much. Your hair has turned white, but your manner of communication is exactly the same.
We chatted a little more about old times.
– So, what about the keys? – I ask.
– Of course, it's already a long time, and the working day is ending. But for you, so be it, take it. And when you finish work, put the keys in the mailbox, and we'll pick them up in the morning.
Sophisticated sabotage
I get the input: the switch is not monitored, so there are a bunch of requests from the address about the lack of Internet and television. The first thought is the lack of power supply. But no, they say the energy company has no data on the disconnection of this house. We get ready, move out, arrive at the place: indeed, the intercom works and the lights are on in the apartments.
We go up to the top floor to the electrical panel. Visually, everything is in order: neutral and ground are tightened well, the machine is intact and turned on, the input and output are screwed in normally, the indicator shows the presence of a phase both at the input and at the output. We get to the technical floor, approach and open the box. The box meets us with a grave silence and darkness. An installer's nightmare: the LEDs do not blink, the power indicators do not light. The first thought is – Vector died and put all the equipment, but no! The machine is on, but there is no phase at the input. Damn, the electric cable is broken.
We crawl along the technical floor, examining the corrugated pipe in which this electrics are laid. It is intact. We crawl again, feeling the corrugated pipe with our hands. It is intact. We crawl again, feeling the corrugated pipe and bending back the metal brackets (there have been cases). The corrugated pipe is intact, from the box to the input from the technical floor to the electrical panel the corrugated pipe is intact. I go down to the upper floor to the electrical panel. The cable from the input to the technical floor to the circuit breaker is intact, there is a phase on the circuit breaker. A break in the ceiling between the attic and the upper floor? But there are no fresh cables visible in the shaft – and it is not visible at all that anyone has recently extended anything to the technical floor. Some kind of mysticism … Change the entire cable from the box to the panel?
I stop. I think. How is that possible? And what could be happening? If there had been a cut-off line, the machines would have been knocked out, but they are on. I pulled the electric cable from the attic and from the upper floor – it is also tactilely intact. And then a stupid thought comes to my mind. I turn off the output from the machine in the electrical panel – and everything is exactly as I expected. Damn your cabbage stalk through thirty-three machine guns and many other obscene words!
Some kind person (so that he could sleep softly and not be bitten by flies) unscrewed the phase wire from the machine, cut off the stripped part, inserted the insulated wire back into the machine and screwed it in. Visually, everything is great, but there is no phase – and you can’t guess right away. I can’t call this event anything other than a deliberate sabotage. And not just sabotage, but a sophisticated dirty trick, like so that people would suffer, crawl, look, not find – and the cable would be changed.
Without emotions, this case cannot be called something outstanding or mind-blowing. I am telling it here for the following reason. Some time has passed. I arrive at a request to another address – the request is the same: no Internet and television. And I see colleagues from another company running from the technical floor to the attic with confused faces. They shout: “The electrics are lost!” I inspect my equipment. The symptoms are the same: there is a phase on the machine downstairs, but not upstairs. Our machines are next to each other. I say: “Come on, guys, I'll show you a trick, I'm 95 percent sure.” I turn off the outputs from the machines – and sure enough: the stripped end is cut off, the wire in the insulation is twisted. That's how it is!
Be more informed, colleagues. And good luck to all field technicians!
Bonus: Nature always takes its toll
A small sketch from the life of a field engineer. You can find a lot of things on roofs. Maybe I'll make a separate article out of this later, but for now a small riddle: what did I find here?
Eagle Nest
A flock of teenagers
Growing tree
The answer is under the spoiler. Have a nice day and stable internet!
