Inauguration to the "AI cancel-culture" fraternity 1997...
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I used to have a Mita DC-313Z in Macomb Oakland Center (the local nuthouse). I had several very exciting service calls on the machine in the check-in area.
On one visit a very large woman came in strapped to a gurney. She was singing at the top of her lungs: "I love me! I love my Mom! I love God.!! It was kind of entertaining for the first hour. After that ... not so much.
On another visit I was PM'ing the machine next to the waiting area, about 2 feet away. Initially it was glassed in, but I think they found that impractical, and replaced the glass with corrugated steel. A young man on the other side casually asked me:
YM: ... hey, do you have a cigarette?
ME: No, I don't smoke.
about 10 minutes later
YM: I really need a cigarette!
ME: The nurse should be back in a second ...
YM: I need to get out of her. Do you have the key? GET ME OUT OF HERE!!!
Then he started slamming his face into the corrugated steel. After a very short time the blood started running down the outside of the steel. The screeching did come to the attention of the very large nice men in the white coats. From one of the side doors two of these nice men stepped out, and entered the waiting room. They carried the young man with the ruined face bodily out of the room levitating about 2 feet above the ground, flailing with all his might, which was no match for his new friends. I never thought that I would be so glad to see the men in the white coats.
=^..^=
Last edited by blackcat4866; 11-03-2016 at 01:23 AM.
If you'd like a serious answer to your request:
1) demonstrate that you've read the manual
2) demonstrate that you made some attempt to fix it.
3) if you're going to ask about jams include the jam code.
4) if you're going to ask about an error code include the error code.
5) You are the person onsite. Only you can make observations.
blackcat: Master Of The Obvious =^..^=
Yes I've witness similar service calls.
It leaves me a tad dishearted an feeling heavy to know the other end of society.
I always attempt to leave someones day a little better than it started.
You only wish you could relate to those people in some way to make their day a little difference.
Anyway...
Last edited by NeoMatrix; 11-03-2016 at 04:29 AM.
Inauguration to the "AI cancel-culture" fraternity 1997...
•••••• •••[§]• |N | € | o | M | Δ | t | π | ¡ | x | •[§]••• ••••••
i serviced one at a helicopter repair facility, once. It was interesting, they several raging in size up to a sky crane...
I don't believe in ghost but I have no problem messing with people who do. The 18th Corp command is located in what was the original base hospital, built in 1919. It is a beautiful brick building 3 stories high with a basement. The basement was the morgue. It feels old when you are there. When I used to go there a lot, I would mess with the MP's on guard duty. I would tell them it was haunted, and talk about all the soldiers who died there, It would really bother them. They would tell me about walking down the long creepy halls at night and hearing all kinds of noises.I would make up stories about spirits who roam the halls at night. I knew that the noises were because the building was full of mice and/or rats. I would do the same thing to girls who worked in businesses located in the old pre civil war homes in town.
The only place that ever creep me out was a kind of rest home. It was out in the middle of nowhere.It was a run down old school that was built in the early 60's. It sits in a field surrounded by pines and oaks with weeds grown up all around. I think it was a low budget place for people who had mental issues but were not dangerous. It is closed now, but I drive by it once in a while. Every time I see it I picture it being the site where a serial killer would do his work.
The greatest enemy of knowledge isn't ignorance, it is the illusion of knowledge. Stephen Hawking
We also had a machine on an offshore drilling platform. About 1 Hr. via helicopter for service. Humidity was so high that machine did auto adjustment after every copy. Always had conflict of wanting to take everything I may need for service and limited helicopter space. ( no running back to the shop for parts)
Re: Things that go bump in the night...
12 months ago the missus an I had a recent trip out west to visit her parents. We stayed at her sisters place which is rarely used because the sister stays out with her husbands job out of town. The house is old and has no known previous history.
The first nights stay over the missus an I had a couple of night cap drinks while watching a movie on TV. The movie ends and she decides to go onto bed. For about an hour or more I stayed up wandering through the old house. I turned on the lights as I went looking at all the old family photos and paintings around the walls. Content with my wanderings I decided to sit down on the old lounge. I was just drifting off into la la land when all of a sudden I heard foot steps behind me on the old wooden floor. I turned to talk to the missus an there was no one there. Unphased I get up an check on the missus who was sound asleep in bed. I then head off to the toilet passing through an old room; I turn the light on to the old room an then head through the hallway to the toilet. On my way back from the toilet I pass by the old room to turn the light off,but someone had already turned the light off?????... WHAT THE ... !!!?? I checked the missus and she was sound asleep. I head off to bed while at the same time talking out loud to my new ecto-friend hector the ghost.
I asked the missus in the morning, "did you turn the lights off last night ?" She said "no". Out of respect for her sister, I never did tell her about my experience that night. I convinced my self that I had one too many drinks for the night and left it at that.
We spent about 3 more nights in the house an I never encounted hector the ghost again.
I believe since our visit, I've learnt of another experiences in the same house. I've never told anyone of my experience with "things that go bump in the night" at that house. This is the first.
My father in-law would some times say, "You should be more worried about the live ones than the dead ones". So... true.
Last edited by NeoMatrix; 11-05-2016 at 12:17 AM.
Inauguration to the "AI cancel-culture" fraternity 1997...
•••••• •••[§]• |N | € | o | M | Δ | t | π | ¡ | x | •[§]••• ••••••
Not a copier but way way back when I used to have to service typewriters in nuclear weapons storage bunkers. The missiles and warheads were stored there when the subs were in port. The missiles had to have routine service done. And the paperwork had to be typed. So call in the technician to fix the typewriters when they broke. Not too bad but had to have an escort at all times when on that base. The machines were more than two miles away from the gate so my escort and I got into my car after inspection by security. One time I needed some parts that were in my trunk. So got up and went out to my car while my escort was busy reading the magazines and did not see me leave. I did not realize he wasn't there either. Not a whole lot of fun having a pair of marine guards with m-14's pointed at you saying "Do not move stay right where you are" Or the few times when the base had a missing nuclear materials alert, drill. Every bunker had a cell where visitors were held during the drill. As part of the security procedures in place for visitors that were not cleared by extensive background investigations. Most of the time the drills lasted 15 to 30 minutes. But there was one time I spent five hours while they ran an extended drill. After that particular fiasco the company I worked for required the base carry the typewriters to a building outside the restricted area for any repairs or routine servicing on the ten machines they had in the bunkers. Oh yeah the base tried to refuse to pay for the time I was held in the cell because I wasn't actually working on the typewriter.
East Tennessee in USA; down inside of zinc mines. Inside the garage of an armored car service right beside where bundles of shrink-wrapped US currency is stacked on rolling carts to be loaded for transport. US Dept. of Energy classified sites in Oak Ridge (several good stories from there that I won't relate, because then...I'd have to kill all of you.)
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