Faberge Egg

I've been doing actual, traditional labor this week. The kind that earns an actual, physical paycheck. I like that. I'm working half days at the print shop where I worked for twelve years, to fill in for someone on vacation.

So here's a little story. A yawner, really, but in my steadfastly boring life it's something to mention. On Monday I arrived at the shop and started helping with odds and ends. Skip ahead. George (the owner) had to leave for a doctor's appointment, and it was my job to watch the front. It had been quiet up until then, but as fate would have it two customers came in just as he was about to leave. He quickly checked what the first one wanted--which was something easy--and then asked what the second one needed as I finished up with the first. The second only needed color copies, so George said his goodbyes.

I was a little nervous because the copiers had changed since I used to work there, but they ended up being pretty user-friendly. I began making copies, and realized I needed to get a price for the lady. Well, I couldn't remember where the price sheet was located, and I was looking all over the front counter for it. Embarrassed, I told the woman my little problem and she was very understanding as I continued to look. Meanwhile, another lady had come in to use one of the self-service copiers. She had trouble trying to enlarge a pattern she needed (a numbered pattern for weaving), and asked if I could do it. I said I hope so, and after only messing up one copy, was able to get what she wanted. As I was showing her the enlarged copies for approval, we ended up pushing aside some clipboards that were on the counter, and lo and behold, there was the price sheet underneath.

So I took care of her and then finished up with the other woman, who was obviously happy that I found the prices. She pulled out a credit card to pay, which gave me another moment of panic. I wasn't sure if I remembered how to run a card, but it turned out to be a simple process. Done and done. Her patience was much appreciated, and thank God the phone hadn't made a peep! Oh, I forgot to mention the other lady that came in as I was starting to make color copies. She had a big bag slung over one arm stuffed with papers and things, and looked like she had a serious job to discuss. I smiled her way as I worked on the copies for a few minutes, and then I went to the back for more paper. When I returned to the front the lady had left, so I was quite happy about that. Maybe she found out George was gone.

There are more details to mention, but I've already made it sound bigger than it was. Actually, to my inside anxiety, it was worse than I describe. But years of trained anxiety endurance allow me to maintain a friendly professional exterior. For the most part. =P I just hate that feeling of being trapped, not knowing what to do. I mean, when I couldn't find the price sheet I was literally thinking I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M GOING TO DO!!! I'm sure it's real comforting to the customer to see me standing there saying, "Hm, let's see...." with a clueless expression on my face. But I done good.

It's nice to work with paper again, playing with all those bindery machines at the shop.