Bumbling Fax Boy

When you're doing five-minute sets at Kazmos you're not going to make a whole lot of money doing comedy.  So aside from cutting commercials in my shedio (shed studio) and being a great husband to my gainfully employed wife, I've become an assistant to a real estate agent.  So far I've worked two hours for her.  In that time I've faxed something, picked up two realtor padlock thingys and messed up her expense spreadsheet.  The faxing was not a pretty affair. 

After not knowing how to get the machine to light it's display, I unplugged and plugged back it in.  To this I heard "oh no, don't do that, it'll lose it's memory!"  This was said shortly after it lost it's memory.  And then, trying to forget, I moved forward with the dialing.  I waited.  Nothing happened.  I dialed again.  Waited.  Nothing.  Again.  Nothing.  And then I started to feel as if I needed to move.  I needed to look like there wasn't problem and I knew exactly what I was doing.  I opened a cupboard and grabbed a reem of paper.  I slowly unwrapped it as I anxiously glanced at the display.  Nothing.  I dialed again.  I tried to be as quiet as possible; the unobtrusive aloof guy who needs no one's help to succeed.  And then...a connection.  Sweet!  Faxing is no problem.  That is until the fax machine spoke. 

"Jared," it said. 

You know when your brain can't quite piece the facts together and without sufficient evidence is unable to make a proper judgement?   Yah, well I just stood their, wondering how the fax maching knew my name.  "Jaaaaaaarrrrred" it rolled out in an annoyed tone.   I kind of recognized the voice.  And now everyone I had been trying not to molest with my issues had turned to look at me. 

"Jared, pick up the phone!" yelled the now very irritated Brother Intellifax 5750e.  Everyone laughed.  I did not join them but followed the instructions.  Something I could have used when I first started.  As I put the phone to my ear I finally placed the voice.  "Jared," said Liz the realtor I assist.  Being the new guy I excitedly replied to my boss, "Liz, what are you doing?"   Like I was startled to find her in the fax machine.  She answered,  "I've been trying to work and you've been faxing my cell phone.  Stop it." 

I did.  I moved forward with another number.   I was supposed to await a receipt of proper delivery but didn't want to spend much more time in the vicinity of the fax.  On my way out I found a printout akin to a fax confirmation.  I'm pretty sure it made it.  As long as I dialed right.