Copy Cat

I am a little unfair when I talk about Nigel, aka Sooty, as I paint him as ineffectual, weak and boring, but he does have a special talent.

At lunchtime yesterday I decided to pass on my daily constitutional with Call Centre Tony and decide to visit Office World to buy some stationery. It’s one of those cavernous warehouses stashed, floor to ceiling, with stationery. For someone like me, who is obsessive about stationery, walking down the aisles can induce an organismistic orgasm.

I was on the hunt for a file to present my six-month report to Bernard. I selected one of those robust plastic files that look like they should be used to store radioactive material in rather than my shabby efforts to get a pay rise.

When I got back I decided to copy the report. The Call Centre has invested in a new photocopier that doesn’t look like a photocopier. It is more like R2 D2.

It’s the state of the art. It’s so good that when I fed the report into one end, it came out of the other side a crumpled, origami sculpture.

“Shit!” I exclaimed as it mangled the third sheet of my report.

Nigel calmly approached. Without saying a word he calmly took over. In no time it was colour copied, double-sided and perfectly collated; complete with a copy to give to my mum.

Nigel is a ‘Copier Whisperer’.