observation at the print station
i'm in the labs, looking even more drugged-up and rough than i usually do (and possibly thereby convincing the freshers who've started turning up that i am, in fact, the campus crack dealer and not the campus hacker), and i have a clear view of the printer from where i'm slumped in my office chair. station's attached to a little win98 box, to which you have to logon, as the box's monitor states. clearly. in bright fucking size 20 purple.
the same woman just went up to it twice, sat down, pressed random buttons on the printer, and each time gave up and walked off. she's just this minute sat back down again. it's like being Bill fucking Oddie or something - i can sit and observe these, uh fresh new minds, but one move on my part and they'll run the fuck away. so i'm stuck observing them needing three tries to work a machine that has neon instructions right the fuck there on the screen.
i think i just temporarily gave up my faith in students.
Lepht
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[pls no ask about the vodka. debate is always welcome. remember, Tramadol fucks you up]