I check the clock located at the bottom right corner of my computer screen. The time is now 11:45pm. Only 15 minutes until I can pack up and leave my workstation. The helpdesk closes at midnight.

“Hey Reigner, want to run that dungeon again after work?” to my right is my co-worker and friend John, flashing me a grin. I have known John since high school and over the years we have played almost every Massively Multiplayer Online Role Playing Game, otherwise known as MMORPG, ever to release on PC.

RPG games have always been a hobby of mine and I love the escapism it provides. In this game John and I were a part of a large guild that was in the top 10 until recently. I decided I wanted out as it was starting to feel more like a job with the increasing number of obligations expected of members. Even though John decided to stay we still find time to play together.

I decided I want to focus more on what I enjoy. Dungeon diving, rare creature hunting, exploration, and the collection of non-combat pets. I recently spent around 90% of my wealth to buy one of the bigger housing plots just so I could show off all the pets I have collected so far.

The dungeon John was referring to has a rare pet with only a 3% chance of dropping from the end Boss. Tonight, will mark the thirtieth clear of the dungeon for us and I’m hoping to acquire the rare drop before that number hits fifty. Giving John a thumbs up I turn back to my screen to finish off the notes from the last call.

A beep from my headset startles me and I check the screen to find that a call is requiring my attention, I could have sworn I had a minute or so of worktime left. Looking up from my desk I see my team leader, Trev, smiling at me. Team leaders will only be assigned a call by the system if the rest of the team is busy. It’s not uncommon for staff to find worktime suddenly missing. This particular team leader likes to keep a buffer, so he won’t be the one receiving a last-minute call before the helpdesk closes. Glaring at Trev for a second, I sigh, and then answer the call.

“Hello this is Reigner from Ready Net Go. Please be aware that calls may be recorded for training and quality purposes. Can I start with your member ID please?” The words flow out of my mouth automatically after repeating them 40 or so times a day, every day.

I will have been working here at RNG’s internet helpdesk for 5 years next Monday. I know this because I have recently updated my resume in hopes of leaving this place. I would have left sooner but I couldn’t be bothered with all the effort of writing cover letters and going through multiple job interviews.

“Finally. A real person at last! Listen. I can’t get online.” The voice sounds like a middle-aged male that has had a few beverages.

“No worries. Do you have your member number handy? I’ll bring up your information and have a look at your connection from my side”. I already have the customers profile up using the number he called with. This question is part of the script we are required to follow.

“You are-not listening! I just said that I don’t have a bloody connection! Where is this call centre located anyway? Probably some shithole country.” The caller’s words start to slur.

Feels like this one may take a while. Normally when a customer is becoming angry or aggressive staff are to make a judgement to either continue the call or escalate the call to the team lead. Looking up over my monitor I can see Trev glaring at me and shaking his head “Don’t even think about it Reigner”. Shit... no salvation there. The jerk is probably listening to the call, making himself look busy.

11:47 on the clock. That gives me roughly 10min to resolve the call and write notes... looks like I’ll have to pull out the good ol’ Reigner’s customer service charm. Don’t underestimate my demi-decade of experience!

Taking a breath and pulling out my most cheerful tone “Nope! We are right here in the land of Oz. Though if it makes you feel better, I can always put on an accent, just for you. If you don’t have your member ID I can bring up your information from some other information like your name, phone number, address. Once I have that we can find the problem and hopefully get you back online!”

Looking at this customer profile I can see that the modem is connected so it is more likely an issue with his PC. Looking further I can see that his modem is an old model and does not have any wireless capability.

Looks like my charisma check passed as he rattled off information that matched the account. After talking more, it turns out that he moved the laptop from his son’s room “When I brought it to my room fuckin red-ah-YouTube stopped working!”.

While in the middle of explaining that he needs the network cable connected to the laptop the call ended. Writing up the notes I look at the corner of my screen to see its now 11:53.

I glance over my monitor and see Trev looking at his screen intently. Quickly swivelling my head, I see that everyone else but me is in a call. That can only mean one thing.

Before my aftercall time suddenly goes missing again I set myself to “toilet break” and stand up from my desk. I look over to an astonished expression on Trev’s face turn serious as he looks from his monitor to me and then back to the monitor, before accepting the call.

Hah, you should train here for another 2 years before challenging me just before closing time! Chuckling to myself I walk to the bathroom. I don’t really need to go but I do need to make a show of it if I want to receive my end of year bonus. Work smart, not hard. A piece of advice that I picked up somewhere and have been following since high school.

This job, in the name of “efficiency” and “cost saving” is riddled with KPIs and good ideas from management. In their infinite wisdom they decided to track and limit the amount of toiletry time available to helpdesk staff to 10 minutes a day. Meaning if you spent a bit too long blowing mud on the throne it impacted your overall score and your chances of a yearly bonus… I should be thankful really. Management are becoming increasing good at motivating me to apply for other companies.

I walked back to my workstation, logged out and grabbed my bag. I waved goodbye to the team and walked to the door leading to the exit stairs. Glancing over my shoulder to see the team packing and a frustrated Trev hunched over his computer. Now I’m not one to take joy from another person’s pain but I can’t help feel that this sight is… therapeutic. I smile to myself as I step down and then out to freedom.

The cold night’s air is refreshing as it hits my face for the first time in the last eight hours. It’s the opposite of busy in the CBD at midnight and it’s nice to walk to the station in quiet. The only sounds I can hear tonight are that of my shoes stepping on the sidewalk. Most nights I can hear cars on nearby streets and more often than not, the siren of some emergency vehicle. Tonight felt different. Feeling an itch on the back of my head like I’m being stared at by someone. Maybe its Trev wanting to have a word. Since its now outside work hours I have no reason to chat with him, and if he really wants to say something then he can run after me. I pick up my pace to a speed walk. I’m not a runner in any sense of the word and looking at me no one would think I’m a jogger, with my chubby build… and they would be right. However, I can speed walk for a solid 15 minutes before needing to slow down to catch my breath.

There is a street that is known for clubs and night activities not far from here and I decide to head over in hopes of losing Trev while on my way to the station. Getting closer there is some muffled music from the clubs but I can’t see any people from my position on the side road. After reaching the main street I look around only to see no one. No lines of people wanting to get in clubs, no one outside the bars, or anyone at the food vendors.

Noticing someone on the other side of the street further down, cooking skewers on a portable grill, I decide I can ask what’s up and maybe buy a snack at the same time… Or the other way around, buy a snack, and ask what’s with the empty street. I take a step to cross the road… and suddenly feel a force yanking my collar pulling be backwards. Falling to the ground, it felt like the world just hit me. The sounds of screeching wheels and a crowd of people talking and yelling all rushed in at once, replacing what was just a moment ago near silence. Looking up I can see a what looks to be a white truck blurring down the street at a speed way over the city limits.

“Far out! What the fuck was that?” I look up to see a guy wearing dark shaded glasses and a mullet cut staring down the street in the direction the truck went. He is wearing jeans and a mostly open shirt. His left arm led to the back of my neck, presumedly holding my collar, and in his other a bottle of alcohol. If there ever was a thing as an Australian superman, this is what he would look like.

Glancing around the street I can see it was now full of people. I turn back to the guy still holding my collar “Th-Thanks... Did I almost just walk into that?”.

“That was too close! Can’t blame you though. That fucker was really flooring it. Good thing I have eyes like a fox!” He let go of my collar and helped me to my feet. Shaking my hand he says, “be safe out there” and walks down the street yelling “Oi! Why do we even pay taxes if you coppers can’t even keep the one nightlife street in the city safe from god’s damned flying fucking trucks!”

Still shaken from almost getting run over from some demon ghost truck I take a moment to breath. What just happened? Am I going crazy? Or maybe I have just spent too much time staring at a computer screen. I don’t want to think about it right now… this can be tomorrow’s dilemma. I look down in the direction my saviour went. I want to thank him again, but it appears he is in a heated philosophical debate with the local law enforcements. I give a silent thanks to my urban hero and continue onwards. Down the street there is still the guy grilling meat, only now with a group of people around him. You know what, I’m not feeling hungry after all. Think I’ll just go home.

Heading to the station there were no more incidents of missing noises or people. The train ride home is boring as always. I like to use this time to plan out the next item or pet drop I want to collect in game. Reaching my stop, I get out and start making my way to my apartment. I send John a text message letting him know I’ll be online in 10min.

A multistorey carpark started construction a few months ago and most of the barriers have been taken down, giving me a shorter path home.

As I take a turn from the street into the bottom floor of the carpark, there are sounds of tyres squealing against tarmac. Likely some bogan doing burnouts and testing his vehicular dexterity on above floors. I can’t help but think about the near miss earlier and pick up my step.

Reaching the other side of the building I hear a loud crashing noise directly above me. Looking up I cannot believe my eyes…

A white truck, falling directly towards me.