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Scams, Scans and Best-Laid PlansBy Rick Horowitz
Here's how it sets up: six computer stations, and six perfectly good computers. Five perfectly good computers, actually -- the sixth one has an "Out of Order" message taped to its monitor. Five perfectly good computers, then -- from left to right, a PC, a Mac, three more PCs. Someone sitting at every one of them -- except for the one that has two someones sitting at it. And two other people waiting for their turn. I'm No. 2. This is Kinko's, of course. (FedEx Kinko's, actually). My home away from home -- or in this case, since I'm only temporarily in this particular town, my home away from home away from home. But Kinko's is great -- any Kinko's. Even when it's crowded, everybody's always polite and friendly. Almost always. "I'm waiting for the scanner," No. 1 volunteers. "This is the only machine that has a scanner." She's perched just a few steps from the machine of her choice. Fine with me; if any of the other machines opens up, I'm No. 1. "Is there a time limit here?" It's another woman's voice, from behind me. (I do a quick calculation: She's No. 3.) I'm not sure, I tell her. "I just have one thing to print," she says. I know what she's really saying. So do the people already at the machines -- and they're not buying it. Their eyes never leave their screens. First come, first served and all that. And then -- it's Kinko's, after all, where everybody's always polite and friendly -- I start feeling charitable. "Just one thing?" I ask her. "A resume and a cover letter," she says. That's two things, I'm thinking. Still... "You just have to print them out?" I ask her. "You don't have to write anything first?" "Just print them out," she says. "And you know what you're doing, right?" (You can never be too careful.) She knows what she's doing, she says. She -- "This is the only machine that has a scanner." It's the woman in front of me, still waiting for her turn. She's not about to give up the one computer she can use. But that doesn't mean I can't be nice. "Just on and off, right?" Just on and off. "Then why don't you go ahead of me," I say. She's grateful beyond words. Just a few minutes later, the two someones are done, and since it's not the computer with the scanner, that means I'm No. 1, which means that No. 3 is No. 1. She'll be on, she'll be off, I'll be -- There's a problem. The two someones are leaving, yes, but No. 3-turned-No. 1 notices that their screen says something about "suspended" and "reinsert card." She calls them back. They're finished, they tell her; she should just put her own card in. She's not buying it. She has no interest in being scammed. And they have no more money to put on their card. But -- here's the catch -- the computer doesn't know that. The computer is still giving the two someones seven minutes to come up with more money. And until those seven minutes are gone, nobody else can get on that machine. Do you know how long seven minutes is? It's twice as long when you've given up your place in line. Then finally, the computer is ready for action. No. 3-turned-No. 1 sits down. She starts typing. She huffs. She puffs. "I know there's a way to convert WordPerfect files," she mutters. (She mutters?!) She types some more, huffs and puffs some more. "Excuse me." It's the former No. 1, to the woman who's still sitting at the only computer with a scanner. "I don't mean to be rude, but are you almost done? I need to use the scanner -- this is the only computer with a scanner." I can actually see the other woman stiffen. "I am almost done," she replies, almost pleasantly. "And I know you need the scanner. I've only heard you say it six times." Meanwhile, back at The Machine That Could Have Been Mine, the huffing and puffing continue. I gently approach, lean in toward my new best friend's left shoulder and murmur, "You know, I may have to jump back ahead of you here -- I'm kind of in a rush." She says nothing. She has her fingers on the keyboard (my keyboard), and her bottom in the chair (my chair) -- and I no longer exist. I try again, this time over her right shoulder. "I'm really going to have to take the machine back," I tell her. "I have a plane to -- " "Will you give me a minute!" Apparently I'm annoying her. The nerve of me. Kinko's is great -- any Kinko's. Even when it's crowded, everybody's always polite and friendly. Posted 4/22/05. Rick
gets you through the little annoyances of daily life. (And some of the
big ones, too.) Have you told your friends?
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Rick Horowitz
