Tunnel Rat posted on February 12, 2009 16:30

Chinaman was laughing. I figured he saw something funny on the Internet; then I remembered we work at the Desi concentration camp and web-surfing is forbidden.

I looked over across our pod and he was giggling about some code.

"Wassup? What you got there?" I asked. I leaned over and took a closer look.

There it was, the same slumdog code I saw on my first day in the Curry Den:

var row = document.getElementById("gridContainer").children[0].
children[1].children[0].children[0].children[0].children[1].children[0].
children[2].children[0].children[1].children[rowIndex];


"Now, how do you tell someone nicely that there are better ways to do things?" he asked.

I don't know, I usually just quit or commit occupational suicide when I see crap like that, and move on to the next gig, I wanted to say.

"Yeah, I saw that my first week. Didn't make sense," I told him instead.

Chinaman is an optimistic guy, very spiritual. Just like the Kung Fu guy. He got up and headed towards the snake pit where the three slumdogs sit with their tutor, the Desi architect with ADD.

I gotta see this, I thought to myself.

I peered over my cube and listened to him get into with the H-1B retard that wrote the shit code. Chinaman was camly explaining why slumdog's code sucked, but Hindu hacker would have not of it.

Heading to the bathroom, I eavesdropped some more, and could tell that Chinaman was getting nowhere. Slumdogs are arrogant, surly pricks, and they think their code is so fuckin' awesome. Even a guy like Chinaman, who has read the entire MSDN library from front to back, couldn't get through to someone like the buck-toothed Hindu hacker that has been tormenting him for days.

After my head call, I checked in with Chinaman.

"So w'a he say?" I asked.

"Uh, I, uh, didn't get anywhere. I'll just leave it." He is very Zen-like.

Such is life in the world of Hard Coding Hindu Hackers, also known as the Indian I.T. industry.

In the meantime, I had my own issues to deal with. I had to look busy for a couple of more days until I could escape from the Curry Den. I was making good use of my time, cracking open MSDN and picking up all the new C# 3.5 shit like lambda expressions, LINQ, and WCF. As long as I had code on my screen and not Yahoo or YouTube, the Desi slavemasters didn't know any different.

But I knew the Desi architect would be by soon to check on my progress with the infamous Upload Control. I was done two days ago, but I was waiting on him to figure out how to insert a blob into the Oracle table. Yeah, I know, I could have just wrote the code myself. I can just see the Desi hacks reading this and dying to post something like this in the comments:

"You stupid American! Here is the code..."

And there would be some shit that they copied and pasted from a website. The developer forums are full of dumbass Desis posting such crap, or begging for help:

"Pls, how do u make alert box show on web page..."

But the common data access code is maintained by the Desi leads, so I didn't have rights to VSS to make updates. So I pleasantly waited for the architect to get his shit together and extend the class to support blobs.

And soon enough, here he was, standing over my shoulder, wanting me to show him the code I was working on.

"I'm all done, just need to wrap up the insert once the data layer is updated," I told him.

He started talking to me like I was one of his slumdogs. "It is supposed to do yada-yada-yada..."

"It does," I said, smiling while I demo'd the functionality. I wanted to kick him in the balls, grab my shit, and walk out.

"Ok, let me see the code."

I show him the code, and then it got weird.

As he was reading the code, the Desi's eyes narrowed. He was concentrating deeply. And then his eyes rolled in the back of his head, and all I saw were the whites of eyes.

And he stood there, while I stared at his sclera.

He was like an alien, some curry-scented pod-person.

Finally he emerged from his trance.

"Ok, check it in and read the SRS for the next deliverable."

Been there, done that, Desi dipshit.

He left and I went back to my work on LINQ. Shit, that was freaky.

To be continued...


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The thoughts expressed on this blog may or may not be the author's own and are protected by the 1st Amendment. Any attempt to reveal his identity by contacting a slumdog hack at Google, or a corrupt Desi sys-admin at his ISP will be dealt with promptly and severely. Civil and criminal penalties may apply if one is found to have used private information in an attempt to get the author fired at the Hindu-only I.T. ghetto he currently works at. In addition, any Desi who attempts to burn the author's house down because they are enraged over his writing will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. This isn't India.

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