Wednesday, January 27, 2021

View from the window...the saga of the simple request

 The sky is a glorious blue and the sun is shining on a lovely fresh layer of snow. Furred and feathered things abound in the yard; a beautiful day.

As I sit with my coffee admiring the view, my cell phone rings. 

'Mom, I need a short document printed. If I send it to you in an email, could you print it off for me?'

"Sure, no problem"; a simple request.

The email arrives, and I ask the printer to print it. It says, 'do you know that your magenta ink cartridge is empty?' I figure this is not a problem as I want a black and white document printed. The printer says, "I don't want to print anything when I have an empty cartridge. Change it ok?' I press ok. I lie. I check the settings so that it says 'black & white',  and 'greyscale' for good measure. The printer refuses to print as apparently magenta is needed to print black. Sigh.

Plan B presents itself in the form of my husband's work area downstairs. He is, like many, working from home. Today however, he is 'working from home' in Cambridge and Guelph. I phone my husband and ask if he could print off a short document. He would be happy to, except, his printer is now at home with his computer and he can't use the other ones at the office because they are at home with other employees. Now, I am here with said printer but it uses a completely different operating system with a language that I do not speak, so doing something wrong on it would be a big problem. Sigh.

Plan C. I am still without a cooperative printer so I decide to order cartridges from the local Staples online, then go pick them up. I go to their site, and having kept the original box, I enter the number in the search box. It answers me with one option, a set of black cartridges. Black is not the new magenta. I figure it is lying to me so I approach from a different angle; the printer brand name. This gives me dozens of printer model numbers, none of which I recognize as mine. So I re-enter the part number leaving off the suffix letters. Eureka! A set of coloured ink cartridges now appears. And why did I not get this result the first try? Because the number which is in large letters on a brightly coloured background, on three sides of the box, and the top, is not the order number for replacement cartridges. That number is in small print on the back of the box. This makes no sense to me. Sigh.

So, I order and pay for my item. They issue an order which I save, and it tells me that when I arrive for pick up to call the number listed below, which happens to be for a help line to head office.?? They tell me that they will confirm my order by email, which in short order appears. This one has an order number and a phone number which is local. It tells me that I need to bring this email and have ID ready. Well, I cannot print it off because my printer is on strike. So I take a photo and figure that I can show this to the helpful employee who will bring me my order. 

Within a half hour I receive an email telling me that very efficient employees have already picked my order and it awaits me. I get ready to go and greet the outdoors, and in an effort to be a good global citizen, I carry with me my spent cartridges for recycling. My faithful chariot, which has sat unused for many weeks, and has every reason to be grumpy, starts first time and purrs contentedly. 

I drive over and park in a numbered spot, dial the required number, wait through the announcements and listen as a patient employee tells me that the store does not open for another half hour...which I would have realized had I read the remainder of the sign with the hours clearly posted, instead of trying to figure out what the X6 was at the end of the phone number. Sigh.

I phone my ever helpful husband who gives me an errand to fulfil that will help him out, and he refrains from pointing out that reading the whole sign may have been helpful. 

Second attempt. I arrive once again, dial the number adding the 6 appropriately, now that I know what to do. A chirpy voice asks for my order number. My order number which is on a photo on the phone being used to speak to said chirpy voice. She says, 'you can do it while you're on the phone', which I apparently cannot do. I tell her I will call back. Sigh

I pull out of the spot and park elsewhere to retrieve the order number. There is no pen in the car. I only brought my wallet, phone and keys, so no purse which may or may not, have contained a writing instrument. So...I drive up the street to purchase a pen. I take some money into the store and the cashier says, 'what, a new one?', after I refuse her pen. So I go back to the car to get my phone because apparently you need a phone to buy a pen. I grab the Kleenex box because there is, of course, no piece of paper in the car, go back inside, use the pen at the lotto ticket counter, and copy the order number from my phone onto the back of the Kleenex box. Sigh.

Third try. Park car. Phone number, press 6. Hold. Give space number. Give order number. Wait. Show ID. Pick up bag, correctly filled; thank goodness as hysteria may have ensued, and departed. The used cartridges? They returned with me as this type of recycling is not happening while the store is closed. Sigh.

'Son? Your document is printed... No, problem, a simple request.'

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