Sunday, January 31, 2010
Monday, January 18, 2010
Thursday, January 14, 2010
In the working world, toner is one of those items that separate the sheep from the goats. Sheep complain about the printer or the copying machine when the pages are too light or they get an error message about toner. Goats get the job of replacing the toner.
There is an art to installing toner. Too light a touch and the thing won't go in right. Too heavy a touch and the thing will get bent. Then there is the matter of recycling the toner. Sometimes the unscrupulous goat will pocket the old toner to get a discount at Staples.
Ever since I have collected a W2 form I have put toner of one type or another in a machine. I have put toner in photocopy machines, microfilm machines, computer printers and scanners. I always end up with black on my hands, my shirt, my tie, my trousers. Luckily if you act quickly you can get most of the toner off.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Friday, January 1, 2010
I love going to such places and it always is the high spot of my Saturday morning. Checking my own groceries is a special pleasure. Still my regular supermercado is entirely dependent on the old fashioned check-out lines.
An experienced shopper, I have learned over the years how to guess the shortest line. I have also discovered that if you put your food in a basket, you can give the impression that you have under twelve items when in reality you do not.
If I was to train staff at the check out line, however, I would add a class in vegetable identification. If I buy any vegetable beyond carrots I always have to tell the checker what the item is. Fennel or anise they never know. Yesterday I had to tell the (what should I call her? girl seems natural but is sexist, lady is cute but also sexist, woman seems so sterile) female individual at the cash register that I had a turnip.
"Is that a white turnip?", she queried.
"Yes" (I looked at the turnip and it was white. I also figured white turnip sounded plain enough to be cheaper than something with a more exotic name) "It is a white turnip."
I guess training emphasizes the intricacies of the cash register and management assumes that women are taught by their mothers the difference between a white onion and a Spanish one. Apparently not true.
I also notice that the workers at the checkout lane always use more bags than I do when I bag groceries myself. Perhaps she is trying to save time. Enough about the supermarket already.