I was in college and desperately needed a job. The one thing I could do well was to type. But, to qualify for a secretarial job at BYU I had to be able to type 60 words a minute with no mistakes. I knew to pass the typing test I would have to practice using an electric typewriter. I would not be using my comfortable manual typewriter.
The afternoon of my last day, the secretary next door came to deliver some mail that had been misdelivered. She moaned that her assistant secretary had just quit. Our office secretary said, "Jeanie is a typist and this is her last day." Norma, who would be my boss for the next two years (and gave me a full time job when I needed it), said, "You're hired. Come next door on Monday."