I write code and installation instructions. Both are tested by QA. The Production team installs it. They need ten business days lead time to install anything, so they can make sure they understand it, and can ask questions.
On installation day Mr. Idiot calls me at home to tell me, "Nothing you sent me works and the instructions are impossible to understand."
I don't bother to mention that he had TEN DAYS to tell me this. No point. Instead, I try to walk him through the process. After about half an hour of frustrating attempts to get him to follow the instructions, I tell him that he needs to escalate to his boss and my boss, and I hang up.
Monday, there's a shiny new email in my inbox, explaining with haughty superiority that despite the developer?s refusal to help he used his innate brilliance and masterful experience to diagnose the place where my instructions were wrong, and then, with Herculean effort, he undertook the onerous task of configuring a setting that made everything else work. The email had been cc?d to everybody, up to and including the senior VPs in charge of our respective divisions.
I replied to all, with the original instructions attached. There was no message body. The subject line read: ?You skipped step four.?