Let me see if we’re talking about the same thing:
You’re in line, patiently waiting. After three others have each run off 180 copies of packets that are 39 pages long, two sided AND stapled, it’s your turn.
You put in your master copies and hit “print.” Almost immediately, the machine realizes it’s you and makes that awful beepbeepbeep sound while the screen lights up like a Christmas tree.
You open the door and begin pulling out papers from every possible mechanism in the copier and discovered many new ones you never new existed nor seem to have any function other than binding up papers.
After doing this forever, burning yourself, and staining your hands and forearms with ink, you shut the door and try it again.
Same thing beepbeepbeep. And the machine claims there’s jams in about 3 different areas within its bowels...except there aren’t. After following the machine’s screen to open door B, pull out and twist knob 21, and then turning knob 4 counterclockwise while singing the Star Spangled Banner (backwards and in pig Latin) - you still fail to find the paper the copier claims is causing the jam.
After about 30 minutes of this, your prep period is over and you’ve no choice but to bail and try later. At the end of the day, you find your master copy in tatters and smeared with ink. Unfortunately, all that’s left of it is barely enough to identify you as it’s owner. A nasty note accompanies this paper from that one uppity pain in the keister that teaches English, but thinks she’s an administrator and who’s sole purpose is to drag out faculty meetings twice as long as they need to be because she’s upset about the girl’s violating the dress code.
I think I know what you’re talking about.
