Once upon a time, I got a job working internal helpdesk at a marketing company. I was one of three people. I wasn’t the techiest person, but it wasn’t particularly difficult-- most problems could be solved by deleting cookies, or explaining how the address bar worked, or explaining to people they needed a real desktop computer and not an e-machine, because this was about the time of the dot-com bust, and our field employees were work-at-home types and not very tech-savvy.
An older gentleman stopped by my cubicle one day to talk to me about my job. Did it take much time? Was it particularly difficult? And I answered his questions honestly-- no, the usual workload wasn’t that bad, and the questions weren’t that difficult. The hardest time came when the servers were down on our side, and we had to return 30 or 40 calls from people who couldn’t upload their reports and ask them to try again after a certain time. That sort of thing.
They decided, as a cost-cutting measure, to cut the internal helpdesk from three down to two. And because I was the least-techy of them, and because I had only been there about five months, I was the one who was laid off.
A number of people in my social circle worked there, which was how I got the job in the first place. I ran into one of them, who had stayed on, about six or seven months later, and we were chatting about how things were these days. A bunch of people had hated the restructuring and had jumped ship in favor of places like Microsoft. As for the help desk, they were now up to four employees— they ended up having to hire two people to replace me.