All I ask of my electronic devices is that they are respectful of the person who swiped her Am Ex card in order to give them a nice home.
Greedy, with bad attitudes, color printers are the divas of technology. Mine does not have a whisper of gratitude for joining the groupies in my little slice of techie heaven.
Like a naughty tyke who refuses to finish a glass of milk, it never uses every drop of ink. It whines for new ink before the wrappers hit the recycle bin. It doesn’t buy into the guilt trip of starving children in China. It came from China and knows there are no starving children there.
I didn’t realize how bossy mine was until the other day when it demanded yellow ink. The cyan, magenta and black ink were humming right along with a reasonable level of saturation.
The printer screamed for me to open its ink chamber. After three broken nails and a skinned knuckle, I disemboweled the yellow ink cartridge. Confident in my progress, I charged ahead and zipped open the new cylinder of yellow ink. Big mistake. The printer refused to accept its hierarchy in my realm of devices. It launched a full-scale rebellion by screaming “please shut the door”. An ominous warning that I must use the name brand ink flashed repeatedly across the LED screen of the printer.
Printers are as snobbish as project runway models. They refuse to perform if you install ink other than their “recommended manufactured brand”. Well, it didn’t know who it was dealing with. I had refused to buy designer jeans for teenagers. There was no way I was buying brand name printer ink.
I knew it was holding out for the designer ink, but I was in no mood for challenges from a machine. After much jiggling, rattling and adjusting, I jammed the cylinder into its appointed slot.
I guess I showed it. The printer prints and offers no resistance to the “off label” ink it is forced to use.
Devices should never argue with a woman who refused to buy designer jeans for sulky teenagers.