Words and Thoughts — May 23, 2024
Hello again, alleged readers! Earlier this week at work, as I was attempting to photocopy my collection of Spice Girls trading cards, I noticed that the printer was broken. I was able to ascertain this because of the large sign above the printer that read, “PRINTER BROKEN”. I’m very perceptive. However, there was something that seemed… off (aside from the broken printer). I couldn’t place exactly what seemed out of place though. As I sat back at my desk, re-sorting my Ginger Spice cards (all of them pre-1998 issue, obviously), it hit me like a freight train hitting a beachball full of lit firecrackers: Fastly, violently, loudly, and perplexingly (how would the firecrackers all stay lit inside the beachball?).
The “PRINTER BROKEN” sign, wasn’t hand-written. It was printed. A printed sign, about a broken printer. How did they print the sign???
What if the printer wasn’t even broken? I was realizing, in real time, that there was a real possibility that some ne’er-do-well might be going around putting up fake signs in a twisted attempt to vandalize and deface the workplace! I ran back to the printer and concluded that this must be the case. The new sign was covering the old sign that read, “Printer for office use only, no personal printing.”
I could abide by the old sign. Say, hypothetically, I were to print a full color, 11×17, copy of my Geri Halliwell card, which I normally do about 30 times per week: 1) I’m in the office printing it, so “office use” is a no brainer; and 2) I hand them out in every meeting I go to, so it’s not “personal printing”, it’s a service provided for everyone!
A quick test print of a full ream proved my suspicion true. The printer worked! I took down the scandalous new sign. Normally I don’t resort to vigilantism, but who would disrespect a printer like that?
I suppose like most vigilantes, I should probably keep my crime fighting activities, and identity, a secret. That shouldn’t be a problem though. I’m not opposed to wearing masks. Additionally, I’m absolutely terrified of the possibility that when I’m in a bathroom stall for a few hours, that one of my coworkers will recognize me based on my shoes. Therefore, whenever I am in a bathroom stall, I always go barefoot.
I will say though, the thought of attending some sort of beach party with my coworkers, where everyone wears flip flops, looms menacingly over me every day. In the event of the dreaded mandatory work beach party, I’d obviously need to put several temporary tattoos all over both feet to protect my identity. I keep a sheet of Clifford the Big Red Dog temporary tattoos on my person at all times for just such an occasion.
As far as identity and/or theft protection goes, I think Clifford is a good choice. If anyone were to steal my wallet, they’d see my yet-to-be-applied tattoos in the wallet and think they were just pictures of my dog. Would-be thieves will think, “Wow, I really don’t want to get involved in any issues with a guy who has an 87-ton Labrador at his disposal, that’s at least several tons more than the average dog weighs, and I just don’t think I’m coming out on top in that fight, as such I’m going to return this wallet to Stav.”
Quick favor to ask of you, alleged readers: Please don’t tell anyone that Clifford isn’t my real dog. That’d throw a real beachball full of lit firecrackers into the finely tuned machine that is my life.