I had printed an eighty page report for a meeting for which I was now five minutes late.
I snatched the wad of paper from the print tray and ran to the giant electric stapler. I thrust the pile into the stapler’s maw and it dutifully whirred and chomped.
I tried to pull the report out — but the stapler stayed chomped. It grit its teeth and held on.
‘It’s eaten my paper!’ I wailed.
Two startled fellow office workers came over with their mugs of tea. The stapler, unable to bear the scrutiny, let go.
Now I was eight minutes late.