I 100% need to read your shit story. (I mean, I’m sure it isn’t a shit story but ... you know what I mean. It’s the shittiest shit story that isn’t a shit story, sounds like.)
Also, when I started at my government office (in 2004 people!) there were still ***typewriters*** in the office supply rooms. And a rumor that some of the longest-tenured employees wrote their reports with them and the Admin Assistants still typed them up. 🤦♀️ I’m a little ashamed I didn’t steal a typewriter or at least a some white-out or a beautiful glass ashtray from the supply room.
The shit story is lost to the ages. You'll just have to imagine it. The last use of a typewriter that I recall is in 1995 when I worked at a pharmacy, they kept one for typing up prescription labels outside of the computer system.
I have no idea what model of typewriter my mom owned, but it always smelled like it was about to become an electrical fire. I typed a lot of silly stories on it as a kid and eventually college papers. It was a game changer when I got my first word processing typewriter toward the end of college.
Did you ever come across the sheets of plastic that had a thin layer of chalk on them that you could use to fix typos? You inserted them over the typo on the paper and typed over both the sheet and the paper to hide the mistake, and then re-typed over everything to correct it. This was before Wite-Out and Liquid Paper.
Of course I had those! They were a pain in the ass if you couldn't line the paper up exactly. This was a manual. I learned to type on an electric in middle school, then promptly forgot and went back to a four finger hunt and peck that I can get 80wpm with when I'm flying. But I much preferred word processing. I had a daisy wheel printer because school wouldn't accept dot matrix yet—and laser and inkjet, if invented, were in the realm of millionaires—and I loved watching it Hammer away like a robot typist, tilting to make italics, and doubling up strikes for bold. Those were the days... (Not)
I 100% need to read your shit story. (I mean, I’m sure it isn’t a shit story but ... you know what I mean. It’s the shittiest shit story that isn’t a shit story, sounds like.)
Also, when I started at my government office (in 2004 people!) there were still ***typewriters*** in the office supply rooms. And a rumor that some of the longest-tenured employees wrote their reports with them and the Admin Assistants still typed them up. 🤦♀️ I’m a little ashamed I didn’t steal a typewriter or at least a some white-out or a beautiful glass ashtray from the supply room.
The shit story is lost to the ages. You'll just have to imagine it. The last use of a typewriter that I recall is in 1995 when I worked at a pharmacy, they kept one for typing up prescription labels outside of the computer system.
I have no idea what model of typewriter my mom owned, but it always smelled like it was about to become an electrical fire. I typed a lot of silly stories on it as a kid and eventually college papers. It was a game changer when I got my first word processing typewriter toward the end of college.
Did you ever come across the sheets of plastic that had a thin layer of chalk on them that you could use to fix typos? You inserted them over the typo on the paper and typed over both the sheet and the paper to hide the mistake, and then re-typed over everything to correct it. This was before Wite-Out and Liquid Paper.
Of course I had those! They were a pain in the ass if you couldn't line the paper up exactly. This was a manual. I learned to type on an electric in middle school, then promptly forgot and went back to a four finger hunt and peck that I can get 80wpm with when I'm flying. But I much preferred word processing. I had a daisy wheel printer because school wouldn't accept dot matrix yet—and laser and inkjet, if invented, were in the realm of millionaires—and I loved watching it Hammer away like a robot typist, tilting to make italics, and doubling up strikes for bold. Those were the days... (Not)
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