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Kinko's? Populated by syphilitic brain-dead lemurs. Really. Avoid them as you would plague victims.

I dropped off the print job at 11am this morning, with an agreement to have it done by 3pm. They didn't do the job. They didn't have the paper. They didn't call me to let me know. I didn't find out until 3:15 when I went to pick it up. I let them know *PRECISELY* what I thought of them, their mental aptitudes, and their establishment. At volume.

My advisor was luckily available with a car, and we went screaming down to Staples where I found out that they were not going to be able to print it until later this evening, maybe tomorrow. Instead, I elect to buy the paper... except they didn't have enough of the 24# 100% cotton all-white. So I call the graduate school and ask if 20# is okay. Yes, yes it is since I'm doing single-sided. Excellent. I buy all they have. 400 sheets. My document is exactly 400 sheets. Hurm. I buy a box of 24# 100% all-white and hope they don't notice if I have to slip one or two in.

Which was good, because the very first page on the mopier at work got mangled... at 4:30. Did I mention the office closes at 5?

I finally got the stupid thing printed out and boxed up at 4:52. I got to the graduate school at 4:57.

I got my receipt at 5:03.

I am done. Barring any problems they find, and want me to re-do, I am finally, utterly, completely and actually done.


Huzzah.


Fuckers.

Kinko's. . .

Date: 2005-11-19 12:05 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] sfeldon.livejournal.com
Will do a fabulous job on anything you don't give a damn about. When you care deeply, stand there and watch them. Even then, don't blink.

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