One of the big wigs here doesn’t know how to use the fax machine. He knows how to email, make complicated spreadsheets in Excel, and use a phone, but somehow the fax machine’s intricate workings are beyond him. I am not technically supposed to fax for him. I hope that one day I will be too busy to do it so he can complain to my boss, who will tell him I am not supposed to fax for him. Until that day, I have to do it, as I really don’t want to step on toes.
In the off chance that you are reading this, Mr. Happy Pants (that’s a code name I made up for him), you put the paper in the fax, press pealer phone, dial the number, and when you hear the squeaking tone of the fax you just dialed, press send.
If anyone wants to know what I want for Christmas, it’s a brick in this guy’s window, or sugar in his gas tank. If you could teach him how to use a fax machine, that would be cool, too, but he needs punishment.