Caught outside, brave Dataman prevails again

UNTIL RECENTLY it never occurred to me that a Digital Slob could qualify as a superhero.

On the surface it just doesn't add up. Spider-Man swings from buildings. Aquaman talks to fish. What's our special power? The ability to download the latest episode of "Entourage" into any Wi-Fi-enabled device?

Impressive in certain circles, yes, but nothing that would cause Marvel Comics to marvel.

But a real-world scrape about a month ago has me reassessing the mythic potential of the Slob archetype. It seems, when conditions are just right, we rock.

Deep in the heart of the stress-filled open-nerve fortnight more commonly known as the holidays, I arrived at work and, for some reason, felt the need to unburden myself metaphorically by emptying my pockets.

Cell phone. Wallet. Keys. iPod. Sixty cents in change and a Russian ruble that I always mistake for a nickel but can never bring myself to throw away. All of it -- on the desk.

Now if clutter was the ocean, we Slobs are the moon. Wherever we go, a rising tide of paper and empty soda cups predictably washes over the environs and, in this case, any memory of all these items.

When Mother Nature called, I saw the janitorial crew had the restroom occupied on my floor, so I called an audible and went to the ground-level facilities to answer her. Big mistake.

Shortly after, I realized this biological imperative had caused me to lock myself entirely out of my workplace world -- my pockets were totally empty of all the Digital Age magic I would need to gain re-entry.

First, my missing wallet held an ID equipped with an RFID chip that tells the after-hours elevator I deserve to ascend.

Second, I had no cell phone to call my partners in arms to come down and get me. Even all loose change for a pay phone was out of reach -- even the ruble. For some reason, this made me wonder if there was someone in Red Square having the exact same problem.

I could loiter until someone who vaguely knew me would let me hitch a ride upward, but I had a meeting in 10 minutes that I had to attend. If not, I had a meeting in an hour and 10 minutes about why I missed the meeting in 10 minutes. Like bank overdraft fees or shower curtain mold, meetings only propagate exponentially until you deal with them directly.

So, what to do? Even MacGyver had a paper clip or rubber band to build upon -- all I had was five years of writing about tech stuff.

That's when I remembered that Google has a free directory assistance service for businesses, (800) GOOG-411. Could that work on a pay phone?

I dialed the number, gave the service's voice recognition software the city and business listing, and then it dialed my office's main switchboard upstairs WITHOUT requiring a 50-cent deposit in the phone. Our trusty clerk answered, and he forwarded me to the office friend who would come get me without guffawing to the whole office because I've got 10,000 times worse dirt on him.

He came down in a minute or two. Just enough time for me to put my cape away.

Curt Brandao is the Star-Bulletin's production editor. Reach him at cbrandao@starbulletin.com. See also: www.digitalslob.com