During my first year of graduate school I was using the department copier one day to make handouts for my class. While the machine whirred off my pages, one of the professors came into the small room where the copier was kept. I stumbled all over myself to make space for him, pushing my things aside and nervously telling him I would be done momentarily.
“It’s okay, lad,” he said to me in a heavy English accent. “I don’t use the copier. I am here for this.”
He pointed to an antiquated ditto machine in...Read More »