Ramblings from the Desert

The man who trades freedom for security does not deserve nor will he ever receive either. ~Benjamin Franklin

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Location: New Mexico

Author of the urban fantasy novel, The Music of Chaos, and the paranormal romance, The Canvas Thief.

Friday, April 16, 2010

Jesus Loves You, Now Go Away

Copier salespeople are always preceded by their cologne or perfume. It announces their arrival and lingers long after they have left the building.

Yeah. I get why copier companies send their minions out to annoy the business community. They need to sell or lease copiers. And every so often, one of those cold calls equals a sale.

But the other 99-percent of the community is not looking for a new copier provider. Unless smoke is billowing out of the copier or it jams every two copies, it's too much trouble to get a new machine. New machinery is more hassle than it's worth.

I work at a small church. Our current copier is functioning well. But more important, I know all its quirks. It's the enemy I know, as it were. As a part-time employee, and the church's primary administrative person, I don't have the time to break in a new copier. Even if--big if--it saves the church money.

And I'd rather be staked nekkid to an ant hill than listen to a sales pitch.

Since I'm by nature rude, the usual copy salesperson(CS) encounter goes like this:

CS: Craning neck, trying to see into copy room. "Who provides your copier service?"
Me: Looking as dull eyed as a dairy cow. "Uh, Brandname."
CS: "When's your lease up?"
Me: Lying. "I don't know."
CS: "Oh. Can I talk to the person that manages your copy contract?"
Me: "They're not here." My brain left the building the minute you and your toxic cologne entered. My unfortunate sinuses are still here.
CS: "When will they be in?"
Me: "They come and go." As soon as you go, my brain'll be back.
CS: "Can I get a card or a phone number so I can contact them?"
Me: Hell no! "No. I can't give that out."

From now on, I think I'll alter my tactics, just to make their day a little more surreal.

CS: "Who provides your copying service?"
Me: "God."
CS: "Uh, who?"
Me: "You know, God." Pointing skyward. "The Lord Almighty. Creator of Everything?" Pointing at copier, fanatical light in my eyes. "That's His copier."

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