Last week it was the laminator, this week it was the shredder, next week the binder perhaps? Or one of the printers? Or the toaster in the tea room? Or maybe just a something small, like a door handle. In acts of breathtaking stupidity I keep breaking things at work.
Last week I put some paper in the laminator without any plastic sheeting. The paper got stuck and rapidly became glued to the runners. I waited patiently, hoping it would somehow come out, but instead it began to burn. I hurriedly turned the machine off at the wall and called my job share colleague (who works a couple of days at a different office for the same organisation) to panic. She told me not to worry, to remove it from the photocopier room and put it in our admin office so no one could use it. She would then have a look at it when she was in the next day.
I did as she said and a few minutes later one of my colleagues came marching down to the office for an envelope or some such. When he saw the laminator sitting on my colleague's desk he stood and stared at it, scratching his head, wondering how it had got there.
I suppressed the urge to tell him that gremlins had shifted it in the night, realising that I had to admit to what I had done. Sheepishly, I sidled over and said in a small voice, "I broked it."
"You've broken it?" he bellowed, in his ex-army boom. I felt my cheeks glow bright red. My colleagues down the other end of the corridor must have heard that... A big grin spread across his face. "No worries mate, I'll fix it. It'll be easy!"
At that moment another colleague burst into the room asking me where the laminator was. I pointed at it, explaining what had happened. He didn't look remotely annoyed, even though he clearly needed to use it. Instead he rubbed his hands together with glee at the chance to take the machine apart. So between the pair of them they found a couple of screwdrivers and dismantled it. I watched, feeling pathetic and helpless - like a damsel in distress only without the dragon. I was grateful for their help, but it was painful admitting that the reason the laminator was broken was not because a piece of paper had just got stuck, it was because I'd put it in there without the plastic cover.
The guys bantered with me as they fixed it, but never once did they treat me like I was stupid for the mistake I'd made. It was only me that berated myself for my idiocy. When they retrieved the final offending piece of paper, which now bore a scorch mark, they handed it to me as a symbol of their victory. I stuck it to my desk as a permanent reminder of my stupidity. It hasn't had much of a lasting effect on my memory though, obviously...
Because yesterday, clearly needing to maintain my reputation for destroying office equipment, I ended up shoving too much paper through the shredder, and of course the feed got clogged and stopped working. Why I chose to blatantly ignore the '18 Sheets Max' sign is beyond me. I pressed 'Reverse' and assumed all would be fine, but no, this is me we're talking about, so of course whole clumps of paper had become completely wedged in the feed. I was too embarrassed to seek help after the laminator incident. So turning the machine off and unplugging it at the wall I first used my pen to try to break the paper free, then a ruler. Neither was adequate enough. Panicking I undid a paperclip and began scraping at the clumps of paper. It worked but very slowly, and only small scraggly bits broke free at a time. I was going to be there all night...
In the end I admitted defeat, scurried back down to my desk to write an 'Out of Order' sign, and confided in my only other female colleague what had happened. She told me not to worry and clutching a screw driver she wandered down there to try and fix it. I followed her, not knowing whether to laugh or cry, how much more would it take for me to conform to the dumb blonde stereotype completely?
Then one of the 'laminator fixers' strode in to use the photocopier. "Is there anything in this office you haven't broken?" he laughed. He then declared that he would fix the shredder, and excitedly took the screw driver and began to aggressively tear at the chunks of paper until they were all free.
He then grabbed a piece of paper and put it through. All was tickety-boo once more. I feebly mumbled my thanks. He grinned and told me that although he would now be on leave for a week, if I broke anything else I could just give him a call. Ha ha ha.
On the way out that night he waved a stapler at me, saying, "This still works, if you want to break it." I narrowed my eyes at him and walked out with my head held high, although I couldn't stop a big smile spreading across my face, because to be honest, the whole thing was pretty damn funny.
I am really glad to be working with such good-natured people. I get on with my colleagues, and we have a good laugh. We all tease each other relentlessly but it's never nasty and it makes for a good working atmosphere.
It's funny how at the council, people were horrible to me whenever I said anything remotely intelligent. They laughed at me if I corrected a false statement, declaring that I had too much time on my hands to know stuff like that, yet I was also indirectly referred to as a 'dumb blonde.' Whereas in my current job, where clearly I've made a couple of foolish errors, the opposite is true. They appreciate the good work I do, and are grateful when I help them. If I say something 'intelligent' they value it. When I do something stupid, on the other hand, they help me out and lighten the situation. It's a breath of fresh air.
I am blonde, and sometimes I do stupid things. But doesn't everyone?
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| Yep, that's 'blonde who sometimes does stupid things' me! |
Photo my own.
