What was to be a Lync to the Past

Sometime between becoming an alcoholic and dying in Baltimore (themes that would lay the foundation for HBOs "The Wire"), Poe wrote a short-story about a man who travels to a grand old house to visit his friend.  Strange events ensue, culminating with the main character fleeing the house as it cracks, crumbles, and falls into the earth behind him.

Today was my last day working for a company where I have spent the last 5 years.  And as I walked away from my building of 4.25 years without my laptop, keycard, corporate credit card, lanyard, or Google voodoo doll (Voogle Doll) I was finally struck by the finality of it.  I looked back, half expecting to see a great crack appear in the center as the sheer weight of the situation bore down on the building.  All I saw was a glass door next a security panel that used to make sure that only my colleagues and I could enter, but whose purpose was now to make sure that I was kept out. 

At this point, the wind must have kicked up, delivering a dose of pollen and other allergens to my sinuses because for the first time since announcing that I would be leaving the company I felt my eyes begin to moisten usually quickly.

I got myself under control and continued to walk to car and thought about what Monday would be like for everyone.  Before I left, I had started hiding notes for people, but I quickly grew bored of this so only a few were left behind.  But one note about me would appear in everyone's contact list. This company uses an internal messaging service that will show your colleagues if you are online, whether you are on a call or in a meeting, and if you are offline it shows how long you have been offline.  However, if your id is no longer live (say your email account has been deactivated because you left the company) it will likely deliver the message "Presence Unknown". 

This had been a benign phrase up until now, but one that began to haunt me as I continued to walk back to the car.  It struck me as ethereal: "presence"; it's more than a location, it seems to  include something of your personality and impact.  And if a colleague was looking at their contact list and I happened to be on the screen they would be reminded that I am no longer down the hall, or offline for 30 minutes, maybe driving into the office or skipping over to buy myself a pasty, they would be told than my presence is now unknown.  My presence exists outside the realm of what can be systematically known.  "Gone and best forgotten", Lync will seem to say, "his presence is absent, the circle next to his name is grey.  He has joined the null set of deactivated employees"

I patted my arm and thumped my chest to make sure that I still had a good idea of my own presence, and was reassured by a corporeal (though pathetically soft and pasty) resistance.  I was glad that I had hugged and shook hands with many people before I left.  I hoped that somehow something of my presence stayed with them.  Like radioactive particles of friendship which ignore the surface and settle near the heart, so when they see Lync tell them that my presence is unknown they can assume a smug expression and know that they know better. 

Also I'll be on Skype.