Monday, June 3, 2013

In Which a Typewriter Saves the Day

Not really.

But I had a dream last night where it did.

I was at work talking to my boss when someone from corporate came in, and he was upset about some fax that he didn't receive, so my boss told him to have it sent to our store. It was something about a test that everyone in the industry was supposed to take, like SATs for retail (wow, that would really suck). Somehow the test had been compromised, or was in danger of being compromised, and they had to add extra answers to every question to prevent people from cheating. I'm not sure how that would prevent cheating, but it had something to do with math and averages and I have no idea what my brain does when I'm asleep, so I just went with it. It sounded complicated at the time.

Anyway, they couldn't put the test on a computer, because it would be too easy to hack, so everything had to be done by hand.

"Oh," I said, "You can use one of my typewriters!"

(Doesn't everyone keep their entire typewriter collection at work? No?)

So the guy picked out the Royal KMM and started pecking away, until I volunteered to use my lightening-fast typing skills to help him out.

It was an utterly ridiculous dream, but I woke up feeling like a super hero.

(This post could also be titled: Go Home, Brain, You are Drunk. My head has been in a weird place the last few days...)


  1. Oh no! Does this mean that buried inside every author-to-be superwoman there's a typist aching to get out?