*NEWS*COPY JOCKEY SAY " PIMP MY XEROX "

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*NEWS*COPY JOCKEY SAY " PIMP MY XEROX "

 user 2006-10-09 at 10:44:00 am Views: 115
  • #16550

    Copy Jockeys Say “Pimp My Xerox”
    “Pimped Out” Xerox
    LOS
    ANGELES, California. Rodney Gage spends his day hunched over a
    photocopy machine at a 200-person law firm in Century City. “You
    wouldn’t believe the crap I have to put up with,” he says as he staples
    an 80-page bond indenture together. “‘I told you to do it two-sided,’
    or ‘I wanted it on 8½ by 11!’ What do they think I am—a photostatic
    professional or a baby sitter?”When he gets off work, Lewis likes to
    relieve his frustrations by what some people would consider a busman’s
    holiday. He takes a souped-up photocopier out into the streets of East
    Los Angeles, where he and other “copy jockeys” parade their
    high-performance machines in a macho dance of office equipment
    hardware.”My work copier is my ball-and-chain,” he says with a smile on
    his face as he clears a jam in a paper tray. “This baby”—a lovingly
    restored Xerox Model 0800 from the late ’60′s—”is an expression of my
    personality.Gage’s “rod” or “hog” has been customized in the style made
    famous by the MTV hit show “Pimp My Ride”, with a supercharged drive
    train, a stereo system that features a six-disc CD player, and an
    espresso machine and a cup holder for his chrome coffee thermos. “This
    baby’s loaded,” he says.As he rolls down the street Otis Redding’s
    “Happy Song” blasts from his speakers, and Rodney hums along with the
    late soul great. “Dum-dum-dilly-dee-dum-dum—do it again,” he sings, and
    it is clear that the ladies on the sidewalk like the cut of his
    copier’s jib. “This thing is a poontang magnet,” he says. “I used to
    just have one of those little Canon jobbies, and I was always hornier
    than a two-peckered billy goat.”Xerography is an electrostatic
    reproduction technology invented in 1937 by Chester F. Carlson and
    developed by the Xerox Corporation. An image is exposed to a plate
    causing electrically-charged particles to adhere to a photoconductive
    surface, impregnating a piece of paper which gives birth to a copy
    after a nine-hour gestation period. “Styling” through the streets with
    a refurbished copier thus has sexual overtones that are not lost on
    eligible women, and some who are ineligible.
    “Yoo-hoo—Rodney!” one
    woman calls as Gage makes a right-hand turn onto Spring Street. “Why
    you got your hand up in the air like that?”
    “Robert-Louis-Stevenson—right,
    left, stop,” he replies, repeating the mnemonic device used to recall
    the standard bicycle hand turn signals.
    “That’s a nice-lookin’ copier you got there.”
    “Tell me somethin’ I don’t know, baby,” he says with a laugh.
    “How many sheets a minute?”
    “Thirty-one!” he responds with pride.
    “Ooo-wee!” the woman exclaims. “You wanna be reproducin’ somethin’ for me?” the woman asks suggestively, but Rodney is too busy.
    “Take your report down to Kinko’s baby—I ain’t got time!”
    As
    Rodney casts one last, admiring glance in the woman’s direction
    disaster strikes; a fully-loaded Lexus driven by a Hollywood producer’s
    18 year-old son comes careening around the corner and crashes into the
    classic copier, totaling it.
    “Hey, man! What’s the freakin’ idea?” Rodney screams, a tone of desolation in his voice.
    “Sorry,” the boys says.
    “My baby!” Rodney sobs as he bends over the wreckage.
    “My dad will buy you a new one.”
    Rodney perks up a bit. “Really?” he asks.
    “Whatever you want,” says the kid.
    “Like,
    say, a Sharp AR-275 Digital Imager, new-in-the-box with an automatic
    single pass document feed and printer interface upgrade?”
    “If that’s what it takes,” the kid says with a shrug.
    “Thanks—thanks a lot,” Rodney says. “I’ll let you be the first to hop on the glass and make a copy of your butt!”