"Let me see the bottom of your mouse," she said, picking up the mouse on my desk and flipping it over.
"No, that's not it," she said, putting it back down. "Somebody keeps stealing mine and replacing it with a broken one. I'm so pissed off about it."
"What's wrong with it?" I asked, sympathetic because people were always stealing shit from my desk, too.
"I move it around, and it doesn't go where I want it to. Like, it sticks."
"Oh, that's easy to fix," I said, flipping the mouse over and popping out the ball inside. "You see these strips of gunk built up on these bars?"
"Well, you just scrape that crap off with a paperclip or your fingernail," I told her, and scraped the crap off with my fingernail. I put the ball back in and moved the arrow around my screen.
"Oh," she said. She paused for a second, and then said, "Well, I'm just gonna call the tech help desk to see if they'll give me a new one."