This is the tale that proves that the only sure thing about luck is that it will change.
Oh it’s not that depressing, don’t worry; just a little frustrating. The tale of how I (still haven’t) got my headshots printed aka First world problems v. 2.0.
It all starts with an email reminder that we are to have our resumes and headshots ready to send in to agencies by Thursday: in time for the agents to come see our upcoming play. It had been sent earlier but I had missed it and was a little concerned at the fast approaching deadline. The tale continues with my lack of budget for said headshot printing, and with tales told by friends of how a certain drug mart has self-serve printing facilities of the frugal variety. How charming! Apart for the green-ish hue I had noticed, in the headshots which were produced at these printing stations, I was utterly convinced.
So off I go, earlier today, to the nearest location of this aforementioned drug mart. Get there: the printing machines are out of service. So out I go to try the several other locations which are on my way home. As I am walking to the next location I pass a photo printing place, but I assume it would be too expensive and so: walk on. Remember this place, it will be important later.
The second location of the drug mart chain, did not have the printing facility. The helpful employee mentioned other locations (including the one I had just been to) and showed a promising (or at least gamble-worthy) uncertainty as to whether or not the next one on my way had the facility. Off I went. I arrive to this two-levelled real-estate and manage to find the machine easily enough. I then make it work rather promptly (with a few glitches due to lack of use, I presume; I mean it was almost cobwebby), then there came the time to print off a copy (just one copy for now: gotta make sure it’s not too green…), and apparently I required an employee’s password to continue… Well SO MUCH for self-serve! I mean, really… So, after much running around to find any available person, one was called up to me and he huffed and puffed his way to my rescue. Of course I had the whole machine set in French and so the poor man was slightly confused, on top of being a little winded and, it seemed, rather pressed for time. Well, not one to take up too much of a man’s time…. I asked him to wait a while, as the one picture printed and as I made another order, this time for bunch of them. He graciously waited while I hustled the hamster which (I presume) hibernates in the machine. Finally done, and about as uncomfortably warm as this guy (winter apparel and fierce walking about town finally taking its toll on my body temperature), he enters the magical secret password for what I assumed was the last time and leaves in a puff of helpful yet sweaty customer service. I wait for the pics to print and a couple of them come out only to fall to the winter-salt stained ground, face down. Struggle. After just one more comes out, a message appears on the screen: “An error in printing has occured, contact a bloody employee you sucker!” I hung my head in despair… and proceeded to look for someone through what appeared to be aisles upon aisles of everyone BUT customer service employees (there were Beauticians and Pharmacists and even Canada Post workers but no one with the CODE). Eventually I get a guy. He struggles too, with the machine, even WITH the bloody magical password! Then another lady appears out of nowhere (where were you when I was looking for available employees, oh roaming one?) and amongst other recommendations, she suggests he try the magic password (which she yells at him from where she was) so… two things: now I know the password and it’s obviously useless. Great.
The printer eventually tells them to go screw themselves (i.e.: “Start over”.) and the entire thing goes back to the original screen with no proof that there ever were 12 more headshots to print (and an increasingly sweaty actor-in-training awaiting them in vain, next to the batteries and discount dvd bin).
They decided to call the master (they had a name for her, it was grandiose, something akin to Master of the Floor but I forget. Master it is!), she arrives, this little lady, and proceeds to tap on the screen furiously. She eventually just open ‘er up to see what’s going on in there and whaddaya know: a hamster crawls out, coughing up a cloud of dust! …No of course not, instead she realizes it’s out of ink and paper. REALLY? The machine couldn’t have TOLD you that? Poor other employees, frantically trying to figure it out by re-entering the password. Come on! We’re not mind readers, Technology, we assume you can communicate with us better than our significant other! Why you gotta be so difficult? So I wait some more and she struggle some more to change the stuff and 20 minutes later it…still won’t print off the rest. Meanwhile I’ve been texting people about the affair and eventually choose to say “Adios!” to pursue my adventure elsewhere. For what did my friend Lith say, but that she had gotten her headshots printed at that place I had crossed between location 1 and 2, and it had cost her a good deal less than what this was about to cost me. ……AND I’M OFF!!!! …Not before another little struggle at the cash register, however. Apparently choosing to be honest about how many and what size prints I had gotten, made things difficult for me. Umm. Karma? Where aaaarrrre you?
Home I go, to try to format my resume and even attempt to order prints online, from this same store (what a CONVENIENT service!). So I’m looking everywhere for this online uploading-to-print thing, find it eventually, struggle through and … umm… it’s appears to be rather very expensive. I consult Lith who tells me of this deal that was going on, possibly only in the store, so I call the store. He says to just mention the deal in a little memo area in the web order (umm…sketchy but I like it!) BUT that it’s only if you’re printing the same photo, oh say, 40 times. Well.. I kind of wanted to print 6 different ones…so…deal’s off? Him: yeah. Me: Oh. Well alright…
So I’m gonna go in tomorrow, bright and early to try to get some stuff happening for me, maybe a discount, who knows? In the meantime, printing struggles aside, I get ready to leave for (what turned out to be) a completely riveting and magical performance of Penny Plain by Ronnie Burkett at Factory Theatre. So I’m rushing and running and I grab my coat and… my popcorn maker comes to a shattering end on my floor. Who knew popcorn makers shattered? Apparently there’s glass inside! So much glass… and well.. what was I to do? I left it there! Cause I didn’t want to be late for the show.
I wasn’t late. The show was amazing. My classmates and I thoroughly enjoyed it and I am sure we will spend a good amount of time discussing it and dissecting it tomorrow. It’s that kind of show. The kind of show that you feel should be relevent to the events of your day, week, life. As it happens it had little to do with my day but it definitely hit close to home on many of its topics regarding our dwindling resources, nature’s constant evolution, our inevitable economical downfall and the crutches which most of the first world branch of our species depend so much upon, like banks and running water and sight…
I came home to a shattered popcorn maker on my kitchen-area floor and even then I didn’t make the connection to the play. I guess that’s because it didn’t need to be made; it was already there…
here’s a little treat, a more recent obsession of mine, a song you might recognize for the cover performed with 5 performers and 1 guitar? You might have heard of it…
Here’s Gotye’s (feat Kimbra) “Somebody That I Used To Know” 🙂 So much raw awesome.