"Damn Machine!" Wendy grunted angrily as she kicked the copier she stood in front of.
Wendy was more frustrated and at her wits end rather than angry, in truth she was almost at the point of tears. The aggravating machine in question refused to work just when she needed it most. It always seemed to be the case; it would work fine when she didn't need it as much, but it acted up when she was desperate. Most the times it worked well and was the lifeline of her business. However, now was not one of those times, it was now quarter to five on Thursday afternoon and it would not make a single copy. All she wanted to do was finish this one last job and then she could go home to her two kids.
For the past five years since her husband's death she had somehow managed to run the Copy shop business that they had started together. In truth John, her late husband took care of most things and all she did was deal with the customers. After the car crash that took his life suddenly a little over five years ago, she had to quickly deal with everything at once.
Somehow Wendy managed to keep everything together and not fall to pieces under the weight of it all. Somehow she managed to learn all the things that John had taken care of while dealing with his sudden passing. Somehow, with the help of her parents she managed to continue to raise their kids, more or less on her own. Somehow Wendy managed do all of this without collapsing in a heap in a corner.
There were more than a few nights when she cried herself to sleep though, not all of those nights were behind her. Although now, more or less she had things under control, more or less her life had established a new routine. She had learned to run the business and her kids had adjusted to life after their Father's passing. She had not dated since her husband's death, mostly because she didn't have the time for a personal life.
While the business was on steady footing for the first time in a long while, she still relied on this old copier. John had cancelled the life insurance six months before his death, times were tight and they couldn't afford the expense. It would have helped her, it would have eased the pressure but she knew that at the time it was the only choice. If things kept going like they were, she might be able to trade in this old, worn out thing for something new. A few customers had commented on the quality of the copies but her regulars didn't mind a few spots here and there.
Her biggest customer had given her a rush job that needed to be delivered first thing in the morning. It had to be in their office by eight thirty the next morning or they would miss an important deadline. Wendy knew that she needed to come through for them or she might lose their business. She could not afford to lose them as a client, without them she might have to close the doors.
That thought made a tear come to her green eyes as she walked over to the phone and placed the service call. The dispatcher was pleasant and took the information and said she would try to get the tech there today. Wendy knew that the polite young woman meant well but in fifteen minutes would not care a lick.
Wendy hung up the phone and waited to hear, hoping that something could be done to get the damned machine working that night. Wendy walked over to the copier and opened up the doors, hoping to fix it herself. Once more she removed the jammed papers and looked around the machine that she hated at that moment. Once more she tried to see what was wrong with the machine, once more she stared at it, not having the slightest clue where to start.
* * * *
Stan watched the floors count down as the elevator made it's way down to the parkade. It was ten to five and he had finished his last service call and was happy that the day was over. Sure he had ten minutes left on the company clock but the nice thing about being a field tech was knocking off early now and again. His day had not been overly bad, mostly the same routine of simple problems that he had seen countless times before. Still though, he was looking forward to going home and putting the day behind him.
Fixing copiers was not glamorous nor was it lucrative but it was a job, it paid the bills and was not overly draining. The one thing he liked that was that at the end of the day he could go home without the world falling apart. Nobody had ever died because a copier didn't work, no matter how much customers protested; they could live without a copier until the next day.
Somewhere around the third floor Stan heard his cell phone make that annoying beeping sound it made when a text message arrived. Stan knew that usually meant only one thing, another service call. Stan looked at his watch and sighed, four fifty three the digital watch read. Stan thought of turning the phone off, telling the customer and his boss that he never got the message until the next day. After all, it was late enough and he knew he would not get in trouble for it, these things did happen from time to time.
With a grumble Stan knew he wouldn't do that, he couldn't do that; that just wasn't him to leave a customer hanging. At least he would call whoever it was and make arrangements to come first thing the next morning. After all he was not expected to work past five in the afternoon, usually customers respected this and did not make a fuss. There were the odd few who bellowed and demanded the impossible but these were few and far between. After ten years in the business he learned to take most everything in stride without letting anything get to him, nothing was personal.
With the push of a few buttons on his phone he reviewed the message and recognized the customer. It was a small copy shop, not that far from where he was and he remembered the woman who ran it. He had been servicing her machine for a few years now and she was a reasonable and pleasant lady. She was the understanding sort and never had made a fuss in similar situations before. Then he noticed that the call indicated that it was an emergency and his heart sunk, this time he guessed she would want it fixed today.
For a second time Stan pondered whether or not to ignore call until tomorrow. Once again his thoughts turned to his free time only mere minutes away. It was Thursday, only one more day until the weekend and another week would be put to bed. Once again Stan grumbled, knowing that he would call her, once again he would put the customer ahead of himself. When the door opened up, Stan walked out into the parkade and dialed the number.
"Hi Wendy, it's Stan here." Stan said with a pleasant tone that he always put on when he called customers no matter how he felt.
"Hi Stan. Thank Goodness you called, this machine is jamming up again and I have a job that I have to get done tonight." Wendy said as calmly as she could but her voice cracked with the frustration that she felt. "I know it's late, and I don't usually ask this but is there any way you could come and look at it tonight?" Wendy asked and try as she might she could not keep a few sobs out of the end of that sentence.
