I read with interest, vague though it may have been, of the revelation of a gen-yoo-ine Big Foot in a deep freeze in the state of Georgia. Damn– no wonder they haven’t been able to find any!! Rednecks have already hunted `em down and are saving them up for Dale Earnhardt, Sr.’s resurrection celebration!!! That’s gonna be one heck of a shee-bang, let me tell ya. They can have that giant “Hogzilla” killed in Alabama by some kid last year, too.
Speaking of pipe dreams, at work today I tried to print out a list of customer service agents who had temporarily been switched to another line of business because of call volume. I put out over the radio and in an e-mail that the list would be printing out at a particular laser printer in the building, so that team managers could ensure that the little darlings– I mean AGENTS would complete the process by actually logging in and out of their phones. This keeps the client from over-delivering calls to us, or at least they have no good excuse if they continue so to do. Trust me, it makes sense to us.
Anyhow, I notice that the PRINT Icon doesn’t go away, nor did I get a message telling me my document had been successfully printed. So I opened the printer queue for that machine- 59 documents and CLIMBING!! Our local IT department and I have a genial truce between us. They don’t treat me like an idiot, and I don’t make fun of their pocket protectors. So I tried to be as nice as I could when I called them, politely inquiring if they were aware of the problem with that printer.
“Huh?” was the reply. I am forever in awe of this man’s command of the Klingon language. Then even through the phone I could see the propeller on his beanie start to turn. “Oh,” he said, “I must have forgotten to turn something back on.” It’s like calling Microsoft Tech Support; a technically correct answer that is absolutely useless. However, in the interest of peace and keeping my own profile active, I refrained from further comment.
I finally used a different printer, and let everyone know that due to technical problems beyond my control, the list could now be found elsewhere. However, it got me wondering.
Fifty-nine documents, some of the multiple pages, eventually printed out on that laser printer. I know they did, because I walked by the poor wee beastie on my way home, and I saw it groaning under the load. Probably all of those documents, which were each absolutely vital to the preservation of the American Way of Life, were printed at another printer.
Who out there remembers The Paperless Office? C’mon, both of you raise your hands. Have you ever seen one? Neither have I. I often contemplate how many trees we kill with worthless TPS reports, memos, meeting notes which were e-mailed to all participants and dart-targets featuring the image of a “beloved” supervisor.
I have the answer. After years of careful research, I have determined what happened to the The Paperless Office.
It’s in a deep-freeze somewhere on the North American Continent. The exact location is classified.
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