A Shred of Truth (Part 3)

It seemed like a good idea at the time. I wanted to do some shredding. I had time on my hands because I had an appointment with someone who was scheduled to arrive between 9am and 1pm. Plenty of time to deal with the dreaded shredding pile.

I plugged in my shredder and added paper. Instead of going forward, it moved in reverse. Instead of the whole jaw being open, only the left part accepted paper. It was like it had a toothache. Soon after, its top grew warm. I cannot even tell you what it was like to want to shred and not be able to.

I called the office supply place to ask if they had the amazing shredder I had bought many years ago. The person said it was out of stock. He said I could order it over the phone. I wasn’t ready. When I called back, the next person said I couldn’t order over the phone. She said I could order online, call the 1-800 number, or order it in the store. I was ready to tear out my hair.

Speaking of which, I had tied it back so it wouldn’t get swallowed by the shredder. I put my hair in a tie that had lost its elasticity, so I wrapped it around and around my pony tail. Later, when I checked, it had gotten loose in my hair. I decided to switch it for one that still had elasticity. When I reached back for it, it was stuck to my hair. I had to cut it off, along with my hair.

Next I drew with color pencils. The points got worn down, so I sharpened them. At least, I thought, my sharpener was working. Except, just then, my green pencil got trapped inside.

By then it was 1pm and there was no sign of my visitor. I called his company and even though my appointment time was between 9am and 1pm, even though yesterday’s confirmation call was for 9am and 1pm, he had not gotten the memo.

However, I couldn’t wait any longer. I needed to get my shredder. If I ordered before 2, one customer sales rep had said, I could pick up my shredder by noon tomorrow. I went to the store. I was about to order it, when the salesperson suggested to his co-worker that he search in the backroom for the shredder I wanted. The co-worker looked like he would rather do anything else.

“Please,” I begged.

Next thing I knew, my shredder was walking toward me.

I couldn’t wait to get it home. I gave it so much paper. It didn’t complain once. It kept moving forward. It kept its cool.

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5 thoughts on “A Shred of Truth (Part 3)

  1. Not a shred of patience left! At least, you didn’t need to cut lots of tangled hair to end up with a zig zag pattern. Good Luck with the new shredder!

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  2. Whatever happened in Parts 1 and 2? Did you know that “shredders” have an union where they protest against over-shredding? That’s when they chew up your contents, spit it out semi-shredded and wrinkled, then drop dead. Treat the new one with love, my Friend and it will shred forever. . .

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