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This morning I had to face something I've been dreading: printing off the 500 odd page first draft of a book I'm working on. Not only because, like all writers, I love writing the first draft but *loathe* reading it, but because I have to confront THE PRINTER.
9.00am: face the squat, black monster. 'Hello old enemy. What have you got for me today?'
Printer: 'Well, we'll start off with being unable to connect to the WiFi. Suck on that for starters, fucko.'
Much fiddling, going and getting Wifi code off router etc follows. No dice.
Printer: 'Well, we'll start off with being unable to connect to the WiFi. Suck on that for starters, fucko.'
Much fiddling, going and getting Wifi code off router etc follows. No dice.
9.20am: give up and get Charlotte. Printer connects to WiFi almost instantly. First slight raising of voice from me, 'I did ALL the same things you did!'
C leaves.
Printer: 'You loser. We like her.'
9.25am: begin printing. First page comes out in pale blue ink. 'Oh for fuck...
C leaves.
Printer: 'You loser. We like her.'
9.25am: begin printing. First page comes out in pale blue ink. 'Oh for fuck...
Stop printing. Check ink levels. At least 40% on black ink. Inevitably - 'CHARLOTTE!'
C comes back in. Does stuff. 'It was on photoprint setting.' Hits print. Normal pages start coming out. (Printer eyeing me with gleeful malevolence.)
Then C notices funereal pace of printing..
C comes back in. Does stuff. 'It was on photoprint setting.' Hits print. Normal pages start coming out. (Printer eyeing me with gleeful malevolence.)
Then C notices funereal pace of printing..
'this'll take forever. It's on 'best' printing. If it's just for you do you want to do it on 'fast'?'
Me: 'What is fast printing?'
Printer - 'oh you'll see mate.'
C does stuff.
Printer literally starts spraying pages all over the study floor...
Me: 'What is fast printing?'
Printer - 'oh you'll see mate.'
C does stuff.
Printer literally starts spraying pages all over the study floor...
I mean it's INSANE. The fucking cunt is ejaculating pages like a pornstar who's been edged to the brink every day for six months and not allowed to cum until filming starts. 'WHAT THE FUCK?' I scream.
Charlotte leaves.
I should also point out that...
Charlotte leaves.
I should also point out that...
The wee bracket that holds the pages in as they are printed is missing. (possibly from earlier assault on printer by me.) Pages everywhere. I stop it and begin collating the 100 odd pages it has spewed out. Printer sits there. ('You hit me. Remember?) Return it to 'normal' pace..
10.15 am. Problem is, the 'normal' pace now feels *incredibly* slow. We've gone from the 19-year-old porn star spray to watching an octogenarian on bromide trying to have a wank. It's like the printer is working *sarcastically* slow
'Fuck you', the printer says.
I have an idea
'Fuck you', the printer says.
I have an idea
I fashion a new page-catching bracket from a piece of blu-tack (photo to follow). The Printer watches me.
Printer (HAL voice) 'What are you doing, John?'
'Shut up.'
Printer: 'Ok...'
I return it to 'FAST' printing and punch that fucker in. BOOM. It works!
Printer (HAL voice) 'What are you doing, John?'
'Shut up.'
Printer: 'Ok...'
I return it to 'FAST' printing and punch that fucker in. BOOM. It works!
Pages are spewing out and being held in place by John's Pro Repair. I decide a celebratory cigarette is in order.
As I leave the room the printer leers behind my back.
(You know where this is going, don't you?)
As I leave the room the printer leers behind my back.
(You know where this is going, don't you?)
I return from the garden a few minutes to see that my repair has blown to pieces and around 200 pages are randomly scattered on the floor. Gasping in horror I see that the print is fainter than Scotland's World Cup chances. Yes, the ink cartridge has run out. Not only that..
I left the room on page 252. The ink ran out on page 251. That's right - THE SECOND I LEFT THE ROOM.
I look at the motherfucker. 'You....you....ANIMAL.'
Printer: 'YOU THINK YOU CAN TURN YOUR BACK ON ME?'
Wearily, close to tears, I begin picking up the forest of A4.
I look at the motherfucker. 'You....you....ANIMAL.'
Printer: 'YOU THINK YOU CAN TURN YOUR BACK ON ME?'
Wearily, close to tears, I begin picking up the forest of A4.
11.10am. I re-fashion the blu-tack bracket, change the ink cartridge, hit 'PRINT' and settle down beside it, me and the printer eyeing each other like MacReady and Childs at the end of The Thing.
Printer: 'That's right. You stay there. Stay right there. Forever John, forever...'
Printer: 'That's right. You stay there. Stay right there. Forever John, forever...'
11.35am. Printing complete. Two and a half hours of my life.
Printer: 'See you in March for draft two, fucker.'
Printer: 'See you in March for draft two, fucker.'
