Review of a stapler. Yep, that's right. I bought a stapler and Staples seemed to desperately want a a review. So here it is.
THE FOLLOWING IS A TRUE STORY:
This is no ordinary stapler. It has sleek lines that remind you of those lonely nights sitting at your desk, with nothing but a pile of loose papers and a glass of Chardonnay.
I remember this one night. It was late, I was at the office. It had been a long day. A long, long day filled with the pockety, pockety sounds of the keyboard as I let those words flow from heart to page. Then, after everyone else had gone home, it was time to print my story. Whirr, cachunk, whirr, cachunk, whirr, cachunk....
nineteen pages, fifteen copies of each. The smell of warm toner in the air, light filtering in from the street. It was an older copier, so I knew this would take a little time. I went to the frig and uncorked a nice bottle of wine.
I heard the printer finish up and knew I had work to do. There was no collating feature in this unit so I had to do my own sorting. Ah collating, it reminds me of my younger days when I was a bit more handsome than I am now. Those were some good days, those collating days. I pulled the stack from the printer, and drew the Swingline 44401 closer and started counting. One, two, three...seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, turn, punch, sip. I took my time as I wanted to enjoy the task at hand as well as the wine.
It took me an hour because I kept reading the script. It drew me in, pulling me together like a staple piercing and folding into my own story. It bounced
back every time ready for another nibble at what lay in front of it. I finished the last one, then sat back. The black silhouette of the Swingline warped in golden distortion from my glass of Chardonnay.
No doubt, there will be more times just like this one. Opportunities to bind stories together with the help of a stapler. I'd recommend it to anyone. Oh, and don't forget the Chardonnay.