AR-336: A Copier Oddessy, Pt. 1

Sometimes the tiniest job can baloon into a tale of epic preportions. Observe:

It seemed like a simple task. I was to go to Tampa . . . or Orlando . . . or somewhere close by it such as Chicago or Tokyo . . . we really weren't sure where . . . to pick up a copier. I didn't 'sweat the small stuff' (where is the copier, what is a copier, how are we going to get there, ect.) as I was informed of the journey several weeks ahead of our scheduled departure date (June 16). So, I waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Finally, June 15th rolled around. I went into work, just like any other day. As the day began spiraling to an end, I came to the sudden realization that, the 'small stuff' was still hanging above like an elevator held up by a piece of silly string. Except that silly string can't actually hold things up. So, I'm pretty much crushed . . . but I wasn't crushed, so it's just a bad analogy. But I degress.

So, brought it up with my boss. He seemed quite caught off guard by the question, not even daring to feign memory of the above referenced trip. He quickly told me in no uncertain terms that we were quite uncertain about the whole ordeal. This comforted me. No it didn't. I agreed to call him at 8 in the morning to find out what was going on, if Rachel was coming with me, if there was really such a place as 'Tampa' or 'Orlando.' So I waited.

And wait . . . no, I really didn't wait that long this time. A few hours after my arrival at 'Home Base' (codeword for home. it sounds more dramatic). I learned that Rachel and I were to report to the Auburn office ('Not Home Base') at 0800 hours to depart. So I did.

And did.

And did.

And I'm really overusing that dramatic device, aren't I?

I managed to get to the office right on time. This was a silly thing to do. I should've known no one would be there. Well, except my boss's wife, who assured me he was simply at breakfast and would be back in no time. Soon, the office manager showed up. I explained the situation and he spent app. 15 minutes running around the office frantically trying to confirm that he had no clue what was going on. He seemed well aware of this fact already, and kept pointing it out as he trudged on.

Shane, the delivery guy, came in and went on a delivery.

Finally the boss came back and gave me money for food and stuff, the addresses of the places I would be going to, and instructions, which involved me and the company van. Understand, I was mortified at the thought of driving this trip in the company van. It's not that the van is unsafe, rather . . . uncool. It's a golden-brown minivan. Golden-brown minivan must be the most uncool vehicles on the road (sorry, if you have, have had, will have, or are trying to sell one. the truth hurts). I mean, these things are the modern day equivalent of the white station wagon with the wooden paneling!

But, there was a bigger problem than my personal feelings about the van . . . It was gone!!!!!!

Okay, that seem dramatic enough to leave you guys hanging miserably until I forget to post the rest . . . so . . .

TO BE CONTINUED?

Flaming Kiwifruit