Stapler : 1 / Loose Papers : 0
Back from a conference, I am looking forward to a few quiet days in the office. I open the door and say hello to my new assistant Sybille. I empty my bag: putting on my desk: my laptop, a state-of-the-art stapler, a few business cards and various pens and notebooks. Automatically, I reach for the mail tray, but it is gone. Besides, my desk is completely empty, apart from what I have just put there. I open the cupboard; nothing remains except a few grains of dust. My binders, my documents, my office equipment have vanished. I turn to Sybille and ask her where my things are.
“I modernized everything.” She tells me very proudly. “Your documents have been scanned, catalogued and put into folders on the computer. I emptied all the filing cabinets. I removed the staples and recycled the paper. I donated all the office equipment to a charity. I am a 21st Century assistant, I am aware of my carbon footprint and that we must use less natural resources. »
She approaches my desk. Her manicured nails tap on my keyboard and she shows me a bunch of folders where documents are filed.
She returns to her desk, takes out her phone and begins typing furiously on her keyboard. I look at my screen and I don’t understand anything. The folder names mean nothing, one is named “rhirirhg156i”. I ask her for an explanation and, without looking up, she tells me that the computer chooses the name and that it would be too stressful to rename everything.
I stare at the ceiling and slowly count to ten and, with a forced smile, ask her :
“And what do we do in the event of a power or internet outage?” It will also be very stressful for me to have to open everything every time I look for information. Unfortunately, I am a person of the 20th century, and I like my old system. You are going to reprint everything and put everything back how it was before. »
She gets up and glares at me. “You have no right to speak to me that way. I am doing you a favour by modernizing your archaic system and you are belittling me. I’m going to reprint your papers because I am a nice person, but the next time you speak to me in that tone, I’m filing a complaint. »
She sits down again and angrily taps her keyboard. She then puts her feet on the desk and goes back to looking at her phone. The printer hums and starts up. Very quickly, the papers overflow the bin and twirl towards the floor. Sybille, focusing on her screen, ignores them.
I interrupt her. She gives me an angry look. I show him the flying papers and say:
“The paper is all over the floor, maybe it’s time to do something about it.” »
She looks at me, stunned, collects the papers and throws them on my desk.
Through gritted teeth, I say:
“Now go to the nearest stationery store, buy a hole punch, plastic folders, dividers, and several binders, all at your own expense of course. Then you will staple the documents together, punch holes and put them back in the binders in a logical way. I’ll lend you, my stapler. You should like it, it’s from this century and it doesn’t use staples. I’ll come back tomorrow and I want this office to be like it was before you arrived. »
She races towards me, shaking her index finger, in front of my nose, and screams at me that she has never been treated this way. She steps back, index finger still threatening, and leaves the office, slamming the door so hard that the papers take flight again.
I look at my office, transformed into a battlefield, and burst out laughing. I call human resources, explain the situation to them and ask for a new assistant, but this time, one who is over fifty.
Delwyn Dupuis
9, Rue du Carre
CH-1174 Montherod
Email : delwyn.dupuis@gmail.com
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