On thirteenth there's a version of TAJP2.PRG (v. 02-II-1994.), which makes partial printing possible. The original TAJP.PRG read the text file from disk and shoved it to the printer, by opening the printer port as a file (!), and copy the whole text file, using the low level file functions, into this pretend file. That was the only way to circumvent the Dos and its ideas on how a file should be printed. Same story as with the preceding operating systems, printing was like cooking with two-three cooks, each adding salt at will. Numerous were the cases when two of them would disagree on the number of rows per page, so one chops the page off at sixtyeight lines, and the next one does so at sixtysix, then there are two lines on the next page. Screw that, skip the middlemen.
This TAJP2.PRG would first read the text file containing the finished report, and then offer to print it from a page containing a string (which user types in a dialog) and a number of pages after it, or a range of pages (different dialog) to print. This was needed in many places, because there were many bosses and directors who'd order long reports, gimme all that on black and white so I have it in my hands. And they would buy paper from various sources so bad perforations were a common occurrence, the paper would crumple, or the ribbon would break, or there'd be a power outage. This enabled printing from the last well printed page to the end, and there were also smarter guys who'd first look at the report onscreen first, find what they were interested in, then printed just those two pages.
Vanji paid me a trip to Budapest, to attend the ifabo. Just to see what's new and also as a matter of support for our dissident project. Long day. I pulled some nice faces and whatnot on 11th to extend my passport on a short notice. Got it the same day. Luckily, the police HQ, where they do passports, is just 100m away from DBA's underground HQ.
This was still unrelated to the future separation from DBA, though we were already preparing something, it just didn't have much of a shape, it was more of a club of dissidents - two of us, Rade from time to time, a guy from Bangro but not Brlja yet, Grgi just once or twice. I even once came with the office yugo, just to see if anyone's spying on us.
One of these weeks it happened that we were all sitting around the kitchen table after lunch, and she pulled out one of the "Karolina on ..." storybooks, the one "...on vacation", which we all knew by heart, because we either read it or heard it so many times. And it had to be read word for word every time, because both Go and Nina knew the full text and would complain on any error. So this time, when she started to read it, we spoke the text with her, in perfect sync. Which lasted until about the end of first sentence, when we all burst into laughter. Except Lena, I guess, she didn't quite know what's up.
And it also occurred that Česterfild became a former customer. They took an app from some clipperer colleague, dropped us, but still needed some work done about the transition. The DBA wasn't willing to mess with it, so we rather arranged that I'd do that as a short tezga. Guess I was supposed to export the data into some shape which Clipper could pull in (the index files are different), or to pull the final reports, whatever they wanted. There was this guy who used to be the boss of the erc in the textile wholesale oour of the stour, and along the way asked me whether I knew any girl who'd know the job and would be willing to come work here. I remembered Marina, who just a few months before asked me to find her a position in town, she'd like to move. So I pulled out their floppy, their phone number was in the main prg, dialed, got to her, she was amazed right there („peed base oil“, as Števa would say), passed the phone to this guy and let them talk it out. And so they did.
The next month they called me again, there was some more work to do. I came and she was there, already busy at large, counting a fat wad of money. All spriced up, in some white shirt, tight, can't hide the bust and the wasp's waist, eh. All grateful and god knows how for finding this for her - actually by accident, I didn't pull anyone's sleeve, just answered when asked - and on the other side still critical of our software, said look this clipperer guy even installed a calculator in the app, just press ef seven and it comes up all over the screen, and puts the result back in the field in the end. Um, yeah, I know of that, anyone could take it from sezam, he didn't write that, but if that makes you happy, be my guest.
The payment was a bit of a trouble, it's still complicated, even though I still had that business account, they specially kept the privatniks under control, so they used the happy coincidence that they had a supermarket in the house, and I'd purchase whatever I wanted up to the agreed amount, and that they can make regular somehow. She ushered me to the room where it was, explained the situation to the cashier and how to ignore the non-payment. This was arranged in advance so I knew to bring a tote along. I remember only buying a whole rudder of salami, a butter, perhaps half a wheel of cheese and some small stuff. Hung it on the handlebar and scrammed home.
Two days later, I wrote on sezam:
Wel it is known how a blonde died wile drinking milk. :)
I'm letting it be known that the above was not a reply to any message of mine; someone's SOR wrinkled up or someone looked at the moanitor at a wry angle. I'm not spilling blonde jokes, I have four of them in the house and not fakes, far from the ones from jokes. And they aren't stupid at all, they even generate good jokes, e.g.:
[I'm not translating the joke, it's impossible, as it's a two level pun]
12-XII-2019 - 5-VII-2026