Bending Over Backwards For The Broken Printer I Refuse To Replace

Bending Over Backwards For The Broken Printer I Refuse To Replace

There are a lot of lazy ways I’ll avoid dealing with one gadget problem or another: I stream all my TV shows through my iPad because I can’t get around to setting up the 17-inch Sony that’s been boxed up in my closet since I moved apartments last summer. When one lamp stops working — and I don’t mean the bulb goes out, I mean there is something wrong with the lamp itself, a chronic situation I’ll save for another post — I’ll put off seeking repair and make do with a dim desk area.

Probably the best example is the incredible inconvenience I put myself through, every time I have a document to print or scan, because — crazy as it may seem — I just can’t bring myself to replace my irreparably damaged Lexmark X7675 Professional Printer/Scanner/Copier. It’s not even a current model; I bought it maybe three years ago and it’s since been discontinued.

In all manner of ways that a 3-in-1 printer should work, mine works just fine. Except after replacing the ink cartridge last year, I slammed the lid a bit too hard, and now it will only perform tasks if I am standing on it with my full body-weight (fortunately, I’m small enough that I won’t crush the thing). When I’m on top, the printer works wonderfully. Without my… whatever it is I’m contributing to the situation, it makes a threatening click-click-click and asks that I shut the lid that is already, in point of fact, firmly shut. All of which amounts to a pantomime of much stomping and contorting, leaving me arched over my desk with my feet out behind me and my arms stretched forward toward the computer on my desk. Imagine making a bridge with your body. That is basically me.

Of course I could buy a new printer — probably a better printer, at little cost. I have no good reason for not doing so already, except that now that I’ve got this printing pantomime down to a science, setting up a new divice seems like such a hassle.

To what extreme lengths have you gone to eke out a few more months or years of use from your favourite gadget? Do you have your own irrational attachment to a device? I’m sure I’m not the only one. Leave your stories in the comments.

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