Wednesday, October 18, 2006

Beware the strength in your fingers!

So...this morning I was trying to correct a schedule (which had been hastily written on by a colleague) with some white out. More specifically, I was trying to use a White Out pen. If you have never had the pleasure of doing your own admin work and don't know what I am quite talking about, allow me describe it for you.

A White Out pen looks quite similar to a Bic ball point pen, except that instead of ink, it is filled with a larger reservoir of watered down white out (not the gummy sticky stuff you brush on from the regular small cylinder, think watery). The dispensing of the stuff is achieved by squeezing the bulbous reservoir and rolling the ball point applicator over the error on the paper. Some folks never get to use the things, as they never make mistakes, I have as of late graduated to digital format and have left the detestable behind, but in the past was well acquainted with the unfortunate devices.

I am sure if looked at an advertisement in Woman's Day or Business Week there would be something there about White Out pens--perhaps there would be a picture of some grinning goon of an individual who appeared in near euphoria at the opportunity to be using the device. Their face would be lit with a cherubic glow and they would seem to be in ecstacy while they are scratching out row after row of mistakes.

Now flash to my desk this morning--back to the aforementioned schedule and White Out pen. My fingers are closing around the bulb, I am pressing, and none of the erroneously scrawled words are disappearing. I shake the pen, look at the roller ball and press harder. Still nothing. I press even harder, thinking perhaps some of the white out dried and I can work the dried stuff past the pen nib. Blame the next action on the fact that my mind was muddled by the blessed felicity that is proximal to the White Out pen. Instead of hearing sirens alerting me of the hazard or my own robot shouting "Danger Will Robinson", I hear angels singing. I am a cherub in the clouds! My reverie is shattered by a nasty crunch and I see white...spraying everywhere. On my desk, on the computer screen, on my two phones, on my speakers, on my I pod (Blasphemy! Bismillah!). I do believe I stood rooted to the spot for an entire 10 seconds in shock, the stuff started to run, and then it dried while I was watching it. The good feeling was gone (so much for the afterglow), supplanted by dysphoria.

In retrospect, I am glad none of the crap got in my eye. These damnable devices need a warning label, perhaps they could read: "Warning, The State of Jayblairia has found usage of this device can create inexplicable feelings of fury and birth defects. If you have minimal finger strength and are prone to rapture induced by advertising, please don safety goggles and use at own risk".

I know I'd at least feel better.


1 comment:

montare said...

It might be true that the best writers are those who fail frequently and spectacularly. Or at least spray white out all over their desk. Stories like this make interesting reading!