Oh. Dear. God.
Literally thirty seconds after I hit the 'submit' on the above post, my cell phone made a 'you have voicemail' noise. The ringer was off since I loaned it to Ash while she was at the movies last night with some chums, so I never heard it ring. As I was pulling my voicemail, at 8:20 in the morning, my HOUSE PHONE rang.
At 8:20 in the morning. On a Saturday.
It was one of my former co-workers. One of the tasks I didn't list on that list of tasks I did on Ben's Last Day was doing a complete upgrade to Windows XP SP 2, and a complete security package upgrade (the latter requiring the former, and she having not turned in her notebook for review and upgrading and inventory purposes for several years, see) and a complete 'just in case' security scan. She picked up the notebook from the receptionist who hugged me goodbye after I left yesterday.
Apparently, my *former* users don't even remember that their user name is not 'Administrator'. That their user names, for 95 percent of them, are simply their first names. That's all. Just put in your first name, and put your damn password in underneath it.
I should have told her "I'm sorry, but I'm not allowed to take this call." I did not say that. I reminded her that her user name was her first name, waited until she typed it in, and then told her, "I'm sorry, but I have to go now."
So, apparently, either I meant so little to these people that they never bothered listening to a single word I had to say on even the simplest subject of how to log in to their damn machines ... or I meant so much to them that they felt they never had to listen, that all this was done for them.
Either way. I got a call at 8:20 in the morning. On a Saturday. To provide a thirty second answer to a problem for a user for a company I don't even work for any more.
I got a card.