Feeling Like a Fool

Elizabeth Bennet springs from the pages of Austen’s novel as a confidant woman of grace and poise as well as wit and will. Perhaps we esteem her so much because she combines both brains and elegance. She may have a few humiliating moments, but she is socially adept.

I, on the other hand, have more to learn in this respect. On the scale of awkwardness, I sometimes identify more with Mary and Lydia—maybe Kitty on a good day. Today presented a prime example.

Working my afternoon shift in the college library, I was approached by a young man trying to print a paper. The toner in the printer beeped warningly at me, so I hopped to the back room for a new ink cartridge.

Tearing off the cardboard and plastic wrappers, I examined the cap which appeared different than usual. Gleaning from my vast knowledge of copy machinery (cough under breath), I then proceeded to pull this strange cap off. Poof! Black inky dust everywhere. On the carpet, on the printer, on my feet, on my dress, on my arms and on my scarf.

“Wow,” came the whispered exclamation of my audience of students waiting to print. I pressed the cap back on the tube and trotted to the backroom coated in clinging ebony dust.

Reflecting on this recent experience in which a copy machine played a messy prank on me, I compiled a rather short list of difficulties inhibiting the practice of graceful behavior in the present age.

1.      Copy machines.

2.      The impossibility of wearing classy clothing because of the danger of said violent copy machines. 

3.      The fact that women nowadays work in establishments co-inhabited by corrupted and dangerous electronics of various shapes and sizes and delinquent tendencies.

And so ends my woeful tale of this Monday.