Blue Stripe: The Life and Times of a Zion Tech Support Operator

I am 36 years old, 40 pounds overweight, my name is Asmodeus, and I am a tech support operator. I was born in Zion, the last and only free human city. I'm not wired for the Matrix. I'm not a red pill, and that means my whole world consists of caverns, giant industrial fan blades, inadequate lighting, and rusty surfaces.

My gripes with this shithole and the pretentious dickheads that live here could fill 50 volumes, but I think I can give you a summary of my feelings.

When I sleep I dream that I am one of those mechanical squids with the glowing red eyes, pulling them all limb from limb. I don't really feel all that personally invested in the war against the machines. Ask me on the right day and I might just admit that I sort of hope they win.

From what I understand, this is supposed to be more about my job and less about my personal life, so I'll try to focus in on that.

I have worked as a tech support operator doing helpdesk and general troubleshooting for the last six years. Before that I worked as a sludge farmer in the sump district. You know that tasteless glop everybody eats? It's a processed fungus that grows on top of decaying sewage. Bon Apetite!

Some of my friends resent the fact that I got the job with Zion tech support. They think it's all glitz and glamour and that I'm some hotshot hero leaving the hard working folk behind. These friends have never been to Zion tech support.

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