A Leaning Tower of Paper

It wouldn't have been so bad, had there not been a bump. But had there been no bump, there would have been no reason for laughter, either.

It was a dark and stormy night... well, actually, it was mid-morning, the sun was shining brightly, and the inside of my workplace was lit very well also. We do a lot of printing where I work. And when lots of printing is happening, lots of paper is happening, too. When when lots of paper is happening, lots of cutting very large stacks of paper is happening as well.

Thankfully, I'm not the one who does most of said cutting. My office buddy takes care of much of that - at least in this morning's case. When a print job requires more paper - you cut more paper. That's just the way it is. And when a table-height cart is available to haul the paper, that is the obvious mode of transportation.

Imagine, if you will, the cart, which, though a comfortable height, has a surface of only 16"x20" or thereabouts. Not large enough to contain two stacks of 12"x18" paper. So what should one do? Make a single, incredibly tall stack of paper, of course. I believe my office buddy, after creating the stack, used the adjective "Dr. Seuss-like" to describe the leaning, weaving, precarious-to-say-the-least, enormous pile of thick, glossy paper.

I watched. Yes, I chose to watch, not drive the cart. My eyes never left the cart. Or my office buddy's one hand that sat atop the paper tower above her eye-level, while her other hand drove. As any assistant would do, I walked alongside her, ready to lend aid, but surely in a case like this, no help would be necessary.

But see...there's this little slope in the floor where two concrete slabs meet. Call it a bump if you will. It's not enough to stop a wheeled object short, but it's enough to at least give a vehicle a jolt.

Yeah, you know where I'm going with this, don't you?

The cart, in all its splendor, hit the bump full-force. Now, the paper was so heavy because the tower was so tall, which created too much momentum for the cart to stop. So instead of all the paper sliding off the front of the cart, it slid backwards - towards my office buddy.

My ninja-like reflexes kicked in and I lunged for that crumbling mountain of coated, 12"x18" stock. My arm wedged itself between the razor-sharp edges of the paper and my office buddy, whom I was trying to save. In the meantime, both her hands became busy, also trying to stop the mountain's momentum and keep a disaster from happening. The result? The both of us hanging onto the paper, chasing the cart as it continued to move forward on its own - towards a nearby shelf.

A vision flashed before my eyes of us hitting the shelf head-on, then watching in horror as the shelf toppled over into our beloved digital press, crushing it under its weight. Thankfully, my vision did not come true, however, we did run into the shelf. The corner of it, to be precise. Did you know the corner of a metal shelf will cut into a stack of paper and leave a triangle-shaped notch? Neither did I. But, I do now.

So here we are, both still clutching the now almost-horizontal tower, defying all odds along with the law of gravity. We would not allow one paper to touch the floor. No sir! Why? Because we're just that way.

Granted, it was a close call. Because even though we had paper digging into our arms, and muscles that were straining to hold it all together, we were laughing uncontrollably. (Did I mention there were no witnesses? How sad.)

Somehow, I managed to pull my trapped arm out of the mangled mess and begin relieving my office buddy by lifting off the paper, small stacks at a time, and placing them on a nearby table. And yes - we actually did succeed in not allowing one single sheet of paper to touch the floor. And the shelf was fine. And the cart was fine. And we were fine (although we did have a few paper cuts, and our sides were sore from laughing).

So I guess, when you see a bump, you can slow down and ease over. Or you can ram it head-on and bask in the laughter-infused aftermath.