Watching “Office Space” should be a mandatory requirement for anyone who is entering the workforce as a desk jockey or a cubicle monkey. Laugh now sucker, for soon it will be you having to put TPS reports on every document you submit and having to deal with crazy bosses and co-workers.
It’s only a small part of the movie, but the part that has always rang true for me, no matter what job I’m in, are the problems that the guys have with the office printer. I rarely curse at work, but when I do, it’s not a co-worker that’s gotten me angry, it’s the fucking printer. When I start dropping f-bombs, you know I’m angry, and nothing in that office has taken more verbal abuse than that printer/copier/scanner combo that is constantly jamming.
Trying to get jammed paper out of this beast of a machine is not as simple as just opening up a panel and pulling out the paper. No, it’s much more complex than that. I read a book once that had a scene with a farmer having to help one of his cows give birth. I think this is a good analogy for me having to unjam the office printer.
I’ve got to get down on my knees (must resist the urge to make a juvenile joke here…) roll up my sleeves and then stick my hands into the deep, dark innards of the printer. I feel around and try to locate the jam, all the while getting burned by parts of the printer that are still hot from the previous printing attempt. After burning, cutting, and scraping my hands some more, I’ll succeed in locating the paper. At this point, to chants of encouragement from my co-workers, I’ll attempt to pull the paper out. 1…2…3…PULLLLL! Some days I succeed, and others I don’t. Either way, my hands come out, bruised and covered in ink.
I would really like nothing more than to haul this son-of-a-bitch out to a field, and pummel it with a baseball bat a la “Office Space.” Someday printer…someday when you least it expect it…