tap, tap, tap

when my mental breakdown occurs, any day now, *trust* it will involve something as simple as a copy machine. simple you say? yes simple. yes they really are that simple to use you fuckwits.

every day i have the same conversation:

random dumb person: is this copier working?
me: yeah. think so.
r.d.p.: i don't think it is.
me: well it was a minute ago.
r.d.p.: what am i doing wrong? (tap tap tap) [the sound of them hitting the start button]
me: well what does it say?
r.d.p.: say?
me: the display, what does it say?
r.d.p.: display? nothing.
me: it doesn't say anything on the display?
r.d.p.: (tap tap tap)
me: hold on.
r.d.p.: you mean i have to read something? i just want a copy. (tap tap tap)
me: okay, this part says that you are hitting start way too much. and if you look here it will tell you that it doesn't know what size paper you are copying.
r.d.p.: oh, what size am i copying?
me: um...what size paper do you have?
r.d.p.: it's just a piece of paper.
me: (looking for them) okay, this would be letter.
r.d.p.: (tap tap tap)
me: no. (holding their finger)
r.d.p.: oh, these machines. sometimes i think they're smarter than the people who use them.
me: sometimes.

walking back to sit down.
r.d.p. #2: hey, is this copier working?