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Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Paper cuts


Let us take our success where we can find it.

I have, at last mastered the paper towel machine in the toilets in my new school. One has, of course a preference for paper towels because the hot air hand dryers are invariably inefficient and seem to leave your hands even wetter than before you started attempting to dry them.

The particular machine in use in our school is one which issues sheets of what appears to be recycled paper from a roll. The technique necessary to obtain a sheet for use is to tug the serrated bottom edge of the visible paper until it comes to a natural stop. It is then essential that an easy sideways sweep is completed while drawing the paper forward to bring it into contact with the cutting edge of the machine to detach the sheet. After a short pause the machine will extrude a short section of the paper towel with a rhythmic clunk available for the next user to pull and detach a towel.

The trick (and believe me there is a trick) is to draw down, pull and cut before the machine clunks, otherwise you will cut off the section that the next person has to pull. Over hasty pulling will split the paper leading to unequal pressure on the paper and ensuring that the whole dispensing process becomes fouled and impossible as shreds of paper block the easy egress of the paper towels.

For the first time in six days I had two Perfect Pulls!

The unusual nature of this achievement is clearly indicated by the fact that I am almost invariably presented with insignificant, tattered remnants of paper which defy by attempts to grasp and pull. Which makes my achievement today all the more impressive.

I dwell on this success to compensate for the fiasco which marked my attempts to come to professional terms with the photocopier.

I am, it has to be said an experienced user of these machines. Man and boy I would not like to compute the number of hours that I have spent chained to a photocopier; many of those same hours spent with a simmering sense of repressed fury as the damned machine refused to do it was created to do – i.e. photocopy.

And this is before I count the number of times that I have been frustrated by the lack of paper.

A combination of irritations managed to prolong a fairly simple photocopying job into a marathon. And I lost a free period. And it was one of my lunch time duty days.

But the day eventually ended and I was, eventually, able to get back to my visitors. It was good to see Ceri and Dianne and go out to dinner. Apart from the fact that I had to keep reminding myself that it wasn’t Friday as I shared an unusual bottle of white wine.

Tomorrow, as they say, is another day: and a school day too!

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