I work as a market research representative for a certain decently large market research company. Namely, I am one of the goons who sits in a little booth with a computer in front of me and a small phone console next to me, and the big computer in the back room dials your (chosen by randomly selecting the last four digits, when the random phone number generator is given the area code and first three digits of the area we want to be dialing) number just at dinner time, and hands the call over to me when someone or something picks up. I ask nosy questions about your preferences in fast food dining, sportswear, beer, insurance, or any other random topic that someone has hired us to care about, but never attempt to sell you jack.
Given that there are computers in the equation, there has to be an IT guy or two around. Under normal circumstances, they do their work invisibly -- perhaps gliding in to remove a machine that's gone tits-up, or quietly returning a fixed machine. Usually they do this after hours, or poke at things remotely. Hell, the machines themselves are deliberately bare-bones -- the vast majority of them don't even have so much as a removable media drive. (A few of the older ones have CD drives, but none of the new ones have even that.) It makes just as much sense to sign in remotely and do things.
Now, today I noticed in my general area that there was one man who did not quite fit. I did not recognize him. He was dressed in reasonably sharp Business Casual. He had something approximating the Clone Haircut, and by the sharply visible layers in the short haircut, I could tell that it was fresh. He wasn't wearing a phone headset. This would be in contrast to your typical interviewer -- we're a very mixed bunch, casually dressed, and all with our headsets on, unless we're slacking off and don't feel like hiding it. He was being perfectly quiet and bending over the keyboard in a businesslike fashion, though, so I soon tuned him out.
This nearly caused me to miss out on all the fun. There was a CRASH! from somewhere behind me, and I turned around to see the spiffy young man standing behind his fallen desk chair. As I watched, he yanked the chair up and slammed it with more than necessary force back into the booth, then turned to the slim tower of the computer. He pulled it forward, and yanked the connections out of the back with furious precision, tucked the computer under his arm, and strode off with great purpose.
The fellow in the booth next to mine had also been watching the proceedings. I turned to him, and commented, "I think that was the IT guy."
"I think it might be time for a new one," my neighbor said, as we turned back to our work.