So first an explanation about my employment 'status' as it were (not like 'its complicated' as a relationship status on facebook which basically means 'don't waste your money on a Valentine card I'm snogging your best pal'). My work history is a story for another day but to cut a long one short I worked in an office then became a teacher (and worked in a school obviously) and am now back working in an office.
And not just any office its the Mulberry handbag of work environments called a 'serviced suite'. It has smiley helpful receptionists who sit in a foyer/waiting area which has glossy magazines and bowls of sweets (which I frequently help myself too. The sweets, working up to the magazines) . It has a cheery janitor type bloke who takes away your litter and is frequently seen round the side of the building having a crafty fag and checking his phone. It has a 'business lounge' with posh leather chairs for having meetings to discuss blue sky thinking and market shares. It has free tea and coffee and best of all you can leave your dishes in the sink and someone will put them in the dishwasher for you. If I didn't have to go home to my children at night I would definately pack my bags and move in!
However this environment its not without its minor irritations. We occupy the building with many other companies so it has a slight 'halls of residence' feeling of shared space. There is a group of IT type guys who are always hanging about round the water dispenser like something out of Dilbert (particularly annoying when you have to push through them to get a drink). A girl whose screen I can see through her glass door who is permanently on the ASOS website (how much do I want to tap on it and tell her to get a shift on with some work). Lots of awkward moments sharing lifts with people you've never seen before or are likely to see again (do I speak, do I pretend to look at my phone, no say 'its a cold day' that one always works). But in general and compared to my messy Lego strewn house full of shouty children a lovely place to be for a few days a week.
However there is only one big drawback - as my employer is a non profit and this lovely office space charges big bucks for extras we are not allowed to use the photocopiers. This means we take our reprographics 'out' the to copyshop round the corner and thereby lies the problem.
Now at this point I should mention that I am not a stranger to the A4 folded. During one of student summer jobs where I was supposed to be learning about being an engineer (but really learning how take long lunches and flirt with men ten years my senior). I spent many weeks stuck in cramped windowless room copying, binding and generally duplicating the hell out of everything. I had toner all over my clothes, numerous paper cuts and at one point developed a lumpy rash on my palms but by golly I could replicate like a pro.
I therefore know that the fairly simple tasks I request (double sided and stapled please) should not be too difficult to perform by the CSG's (copy shop guys). Especially as they have copiers the size of small family saloon with more controls than the Eurofighter. But no, there is always a feeble excuse why it can't be done to a reasonable deadline. Even though there is tumbleweed blowing up the middle of the shop and a the sight of a passing tram is more likely than another customer.
My honest opinion of the CSG's is that they are a workshy and don't actually want to copy things for people. Maybe they feel it's beneath them and they should be mapping DNA or solving world hunger. In that case why the hell take a job in a establishment with 'Copy' in its title then grumble as you push aside Viz and reluctantly rise from your desk to provide the service you advertise. God forbid they worked in the next door massage parlour and be required occasionally to perform a massage.
There is one particular CSG with whom I am engaged in my own little war of attrition and I suspect he has my image in the middle of a dartboard . After several minor run ins I returned to my office to find report printed half upside down I was forced to wage war. I phoned up and in my best Morningside accent (no mean feat for a weegie) complained to his boss. Within five minutes there was someone at our reception desk to collect the offending report and it was returned copied to perfection within half an hour. One nil to me!
Today I rocked up with a pile of documents and who was on hand Mr Xerox dodger himself. After the usual mumbles about being understaffed and hugely busy I told him in my best teacher voice that it was a fairly simple task and I would wait patiently while he did it. Clearly the desire to get me out the door was so great that five minutes later I was down the street copies hot in my hand. Now that I've got him where I want him maybe its time to start being a bit nicer. I wonder if he'd like a sweet and a copy of Business News?
And not just any office its the Mulberry handbag of work environments called a 'serviced suite'. It has smiley helpful receptionists who sit in a foyer/waiting area which has glossy magazines and bowls of sweets (which I frequently help myself too. The sweets, working up to the magazines) . It has a cheery janitor type bloke who takes away your litter and is frequently seen round the side of the building having a crafty fag and checking his phone. It has a 'business lounge' with posh leather chairs for having meetings to discuss blue sky thinking and market shares. It has free tea and coffee and best of all you can leave your dishes in the sink and someone will put them in the dishwasher for you. If I didn't have to go home to my children at night I would definately pack my bags and move in!
However this environment its not without its minor irritations. We occupy the building with many other companies so it has a slight 'halls of residence' feeling of shared space. There is a group of IT type guys who are always hanging about round the water dispenser like something out of Dilbert (particularly annoying when you have to push through them to get a drink). A girl whose screen I can see through her glass door who is permanently on the ASOS website (how much do I want to tap on it and tell her to get a shift on with some work). Lots of awkward moments sharing lifts with people you've never seen before or are likely to see again (do I speak, do I pretend to look at my phone, no say 'its a cold day' that one always works). But in general and compared to my messy Lego strewn house full of shouty children a lovely place to be for a few days a week.
However there is only one big drawback - as my employer is a non profit and this lovely office space charges big bucks for extras we are not allowed to use the photocopiers. This means we take our reprographics 'out' the to copyshop round the corner and thereby lies the problem.
Now at this point I should mention that I am not a stranger to the A4 folded. During one of student summer jobs where I was supposed to be learning about being an engineer (but really learning how take long lunches and flirt with men ten years my senior). I spent many weeks stuck in cramped windowless room copying, binding and generally duplicating the hell out of everything. I had toner all over my clothes, numerous paper cuts and at one point developed a lumpy rash on my palms but by golly I could replicate like a pro.
I therefore know that the fairly simple tasks I request (double sided and stapled please) should not be too difficult to perform by the CSG's (copy shop guys). Especially as they have copiers the size of small family saloon with more controls than the Eurofighter. But no, there is always a feeble excuse why it can't be done to a reasonable deadline. Even though there is tumbleweed blowing up the middle of the shop and a the sight of a passing tram is more likely than another customer.
My honest opinion of the CSG's is that they are a workshy and don't actually want to copy things for people. Maybe they feel it's beneath them and they should be mapping DNA or solving world hunger. In that case why the hell take a job in a establishment with 'Copy' in its title then grumble as you push aside Viz and reluctantly rise from your desk to provide the service you advertise. God forbid they worked in the next door massage parlour and be required occasionally to perform a massage.
There is one particular CSG with whom I am engaged in my own little war of attrition and I suspect he has my image in the middle of a dartboard . After several minor run ins I returned to my office to find report printed half upside down I was forced to wage war. I phoned up and in my best Morningside accent (no mean feat for a weegie) complained to his boss. Within five minutes there was someone at our reception desk to collect the offending report and it was returned copied to perfection within half an hour. One nil to me!
Today I rocked up with a pile of documents and who was on hand Mr Xerox dodger himself. After the usual mumbles about being understaffed and hugely busy I told him in my best teacher voice that it was a fairly simple task and I would wait patiently while he did it. Clearly the desire to get me out the door was so great that five minutes later I was down the street copies hot in my hand. Now that I've got him where I want him maybe its time to start being a bit nicer. I wonder if he'd like a sweet and a copy of Business News?