As I sipped my coffee, some dark haired girl in a ridiculous cowboy hat-type thing walked in and headed straight for the photocopier behind me. I would guess from the highly subtle and not at all cliched way she was dressed – long flowery dress, the hat, the short jacket – and the big ass portfolio case she was carrying that she was a student at the art college. Probably lived locally and couldn’t be arsed trailing into college to copy whatever it was she needed copying.
I watched her approach the machine with a look of concerned confusion and then stop in front of it as though examining the complicated piece of technology she was having to face using. I swear to God she actually put one hand on her hip, tilted her head to her shoulder and bit her lip. It was like an art students attempt at looking like a scientist. She put her hands on the top of the machine – probably in an attempt to read its aura or something – and then, breathing deeply, she opened the lid. She struggled to keep it up against the back wall, but once it was finally balanced, she went into her portfolio and pulled out a massive A3 sheet. I immediately saw where this was going. She very carefully placed the sheet so that it was right in the corner of the glass panel, slowly shut the lid and hit the big green copy button. The machine whirred and buzzed and made all the noises you would expect a decrepit coffee shop photocopier to make, and then promptly spat out one single solitary A4 sheet.
The girl held it up and carefully studied it, a baffled expression caked over her face. She absently put it down on the table next to her, and then went back to staring at the display screen on the copier. She raised her hand up and prodded a few buttons with her index finger, before hitting the green one again. A second solitary A4 sheet popped out. The girl looked like she might weep. This was the point I pretty much snapped. Resignedly, I put my book down, hoisted myself out of my armchair, and approached her.