At work we use some large tape sometimes. And this, of course, is dispensed from a large tape dispenser.
Usually when I’m working, there are two of these within my reach. Here is one.
Note all the necessary parts. The big, heavy base with the serrated blade on one end for cutting off a length of tape. The roll of tape itself, which rests in a properly shaped recess in the base, with its loose end stretched out to rest on the blade. And the plastic cylinder, perfectly sized and shaped to fit snugly inside the tape roll, with its nubs on each side to fit into the appropriate small notches in the base.
A marvel of engineering, optimized to enable efficient dispensing of tape via maximum smooth rotation of the tape roll, and minimum unnecessary movement of any kind.
Now here is the other.
What the fucking fuck.
Now. I am an avid student of the great MacGyver, and I have the highest respect for those who face the loss of a vital tool by improvising from whatever they have. I am, after all, the human incarnation of a pattern recognition program. Which, apart from the bad applications like bigoted conspiracy theories, has three valid applications in human life: Puns, Fanfic Headcanoning, and fucking MacGyvering.
And this makes the spirit of MacGyver audibly cry.
So, you lost the plastic cylinder that allows the tape to rotate in there. I see your challenge: you had to find something to put in place of it, and the nearest cylindrical object was an oral syringe. It was nowhere near the shape to fit snugly in the roll, nor did it have nubs that could settle into those notches, but in desperation you still tried. You set it across the recess in that base; you hung that roll loosely over it– and then, lacking any sane method whatsoever to hold it in place, you just… used tape.
Mountains of it. Layer upon layer.
It’s… it’s hideous, of course, to the aesthetic eye. But it’s also hideous to any sense of function. How do you replace that tape roll when it runs out? Just peel and restick, maybe add another few layers? And– have you even noticed how the placement of that syringe doesn’t hold the tape in the right place? How you can pull the end to try and cut off a piece to use, and the entire roll moves forward til it almost bumps against the blade? Because of how the whole point of the cylinder being that wide was to keep the roll in place, and the syringe is maybe one-sixth that width and therefore does not work?
I want to shake my head and mutter, “Amateurs.” But it would be incorrect. Someone did this on the clock, as part of their paid job– therefore, as a professional. And the origin of the word “amateur” evokes one who does something purely for the love of it. This tape job was never loved for a moment of its miserable existence. This is the work of someone hating, with a vehement passion, every single detail of the task.
So I put it out of its misery.
I had access only to the same assortment of office and pharmacy supplies as the original MacGyver wannabe…. so I, too, was lacking a proper sized cylinder. Nor did I have anything of the right proportions to fit into those notches– and I realized, even if I improvised such a thing, it would not serve the purpose as well unless it was of a large enough size to hold the roll snugly in place.
The only alternative, I realized, was to use the same syringe or something similar– and rig a mechanism to hold it pulled backward– countering the pull of the tape-end toward the blade, and preventing the whole roll from following that pull.
There was no string at hand, but there were paper clips enough to build a chain, and binder clips to attach to the ends of that chain, capable of clamping around the ends of the syringe. In the absence of a solid way to anchor that chain onto the back of the base, I even resorted to my own use of the tape dispenser’s humble offering.
And it fucking works.
Do I have to do everything around here?
…
To be fair it was actually harder than the other weird problem I’ve solved tonight, which was “patient can’t get blood clot medicine until we wait for a temporal anomaly in California to resolve itself”
(i.e. the insurance rejection was “future dated prescriptions not valid.” Prescription was written and dated today so I was like wtf. Until I noticed patient had California insurance, and guessed this meant we have to wait until it’s today IN CALIFORNIA. fuck time zones but at least this is a problem an overnight technician can solve in one shift)