So I got up from my terminal at the Kinko's on East 52nd Street, so I could pick up my (very pricey) thirty-page printout....was that a grey-suited Dave McKeel sitting behind me? That would certainly brighten my day! I turned fully. Inconclusive. I strolled to the printer and retrieved my Operating Certificate, laser-printed on oddly shiny paper. I looked expectantly at the bespectacled man at the terminal, hoping for McKeel's sweetly reassuring smile. He, in turn, looked expectantly at me, hoping for Kinko's potentially reassuring technical support.
Neither of us, alas, were satisfied.