Ink Cartidge Hell

How did a simple trip to Walmart turn into this tomfoolery? Oh… Wait. This is me we are talking about… Story of my life. Stupid Kodak fax/scanner crappery. I needed ink for my printer. Which has become a pretty regular staple item on my errand list. Eggs. Milk. Ink cartridges. More, on my hatred for my Kodak printer, on another post. Hell with it. The fact that I need to buy printer ink -that should last 670 pages of printing responsibility; the promise it makes on the freaking box- only lasts the equivalent of 12 pages of printing stupidity. Anyone with this piece of sh** copier knows what I’m talking about. Time to toss this plastic paperweight. Pass the recycling bin. Pass go. Collect $200. Oh wait. No, I’m out that money… which now, as I take a reality check… I should have just fed the cold hard cash to a pack of gerbils. Stick to camera film… Kodak. Oh wait… I stand corrected. This time, It printed only 5 pages. Before saying low ink. And if the color cartridge is out and there is still black ink, this garbage won’t print anything. Prints NOTHING. Not even on greyscale. Pay attention. I get more pages of napkins at my local coffee spot that comfortably collect in the glove compartment of my car.  So my Kodak printer loathing continues…. I drag my happy ass to my local superstore and  scouring the isles for ink. DVDs. Tablet cases. Flat screen televisions. After making my way through the store and its holiday chaos, I finally grab the cartridges, and with my frozen burger patties in tow… I’m off to the register. What. You haven’t lived if You don’t impulse shop. For meat. 

After a swift checkout-I think it WAS raining pigs- because quick checkouts at Walmart? Unheard of. That has never gone so smoothly. I’m happy. My day is turning around. And… apparently it was not. And it WAS absolutely raining barnyard animals because we didn’t exit the parking lot to anything less than the police helicopter flying over the parking lot spotlighting me, and everyone else in the parking lot. Freaking really? Ok, then. Grown men ducking behind cars. Kids screaming like its a good episode of COPS. Poor old lady dropped her Sprouts, paper grocery bag. Her vegetable squash rolling away from her tiny little hands. Cop cars driving in droves through the parking lot where I was standing. Grandma’s beefsteak tomatoes adding holiday decor to the sidewalk. Sigh. I’d sit and quandary,  a “why me;” but, seriously… 

Finally Im home. Ink changed. Realigned. Ready to print the scripts sent to me to read. Annnnd… won’t the mouse work. And yes, I already tried putting in new batteries. I start daydreaming… A butler. No. Bucket list. Swarovski flute. Stop it. Fine. Add to bucket list. Can I at least get a sparkling something? No? Not champagne. Ugh. Fine. Bucket list that too…. But I’ve got some flat imitation Sprite. And a Solo cup. So it’s gonna have to do. Focus people. I’d like to celebrate the tossing of-both-the Kodak machine and the useless computer mouse into the Pacific Ocean. With the accompaniment of the LAPD to spotlight the event. Oh look… and a herd of hedgehogs. Why not… 

3 thoughts on “Ink Cartidge Hell”

Leave a Reply