Walking on Eggshells

7787472496_d406e32c5dWriting a blog is fun, at least for me – but sometimes it can be treacherous.

My last post definitely ticked off my middle daughter.  She objected to being cast as a partyer while in college.

(Helloooooo, Sweetie, I remember that 2:00 am call that resulted in Dad and me jumping into the car and hitting the Thruway ASAP!)

Of course, like most kids, once out of college, my daughter became pretty much a model citizen.  She has a good job and pays her bills (including those horrendous student loans).  In fact, she’s currently working two jobs to pay those bills, God bless her.  She also has some serious artistic ability, and her sisters and I are encouraging her to market her artwork.

Be that as it may, that little interaction with my kid got me to thinking about other posts I have written and will be writing.

So far, none of my readers have complained about any of my posts , but of course, so far none of my posts have been particularly antagonistic.

Be forewarned – that may change in the  future.  I have a couple of  posts in the queue that may well upset or annoy certain readers.

Maybe I  should apologize in advance, but I won’t.  This is my blog, after all.  While I will never, ever post someone’s actual name or any other identifying information without permission (except for public figures, of course), some of the people I’ve met have been just too unique not to feature them.

An example:

Ceiling LightI once worked at a law firm with a really dumb receptionist.  Whenever the phone wasn’t ringing, this young lady would just sit at her desk, staring at the ceiling lights (no, the lights weren’t flickering or anything like that, and they were definitely all the same bland color).

One day, I had a client who needed an answer which I hadn’t yet determined.  Rather than tell the client I just didn’t know yet, I asked the receptionist to field my calls.  I told her that if “Mr. S” called, to please tell him I was currently unavailable and would call back shortly, and then to just  transfer him into my voicemail.  Mr. S was a very nice man, and I simply didn’t want to cause him unnecessary concern.

Later that morning, I was walking  past the receptionist’s desk and overheard her side of this phone conversation:

  • RECEPTIONIST TO CALLER:  Listen, I already told you she doesn’t want to talk to you!  Just leave a message in her voicemail!

Yup, it was Mr. S calling for me.  So, even though I still didn’t have the information Mr. S was waiting for, I had to call him IMMEDIATELY and explain that the receptionist was misinformed.  I told him honestly that I was still waiting for a call from someone else with the information he wanted, and that I had intended to call him thereafter, which would have  been within the next couple of hours anyway.

As I said, Mr. S was a very nice man and also very understanding.  Apparently, he had office staff with the same brain power as our receptionist.

Another example:

Stressed OutI recently called another law firm to set up a real estate closing.  Apparently, their staff aren’t  Rhodes Scholars, either.  Whoever it was that answered the phone simply told me, “I can’t talk to you right now – I’m too busy working on pleadings.”

(Instead, how ‘bout “I’m in the middle of something, may I call you back in a little while?” ??!!)

I doubt that I’m stepping on any toes with the above two  examples –  I’m sure in their free time, these two women are too busy polishing their toenails and watching soap operas to pay any attention to my blog, assuming they can even read.  (Meow)

(Warned you, didn’t I?)

Hate mail can be sent to cordeliasmom2012@yahoo.com .

Bring it on!

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I love to hear from all of my readers – contact me at cordeliasmom2012@yahoo.com

_________________________

Images by Phu Thinh Co, and Nixter, and Gallivanting Gal, respectively

This entry was posted in Relationships, That's Life and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

8 Responses to Walking on Eggshells

  1. Karen J says:

    How ’bout “Love ‘n Hugs” mail? 🙂

    Like

  2. Karen J says:

    Actually ran into one of those women yesterday!
    Making a delivery to a clearly-closed place, and she was sitting in her idling car, looking distressed. Asked Did I work there? No. I’m just delivering this…
    Do you know when they’ll be here? No. I’ve never found them here when I am. How do you deliver, then? I leave it in a bag by the door…
    (Her, whimpery) I have an appointment at 7:30. Okay, sez I.
    How do you get in touch with them? I never need to, but you might try calling this number, here on the door.
    Who’s going to answer?
    (Me, irritated at her apparently incredible incompetence, and laughing inside because I just read ^this^ earlier in the day) I don’t know!! But here, I’ll read you the number and you can call them. (Getting her to actually get out her phone and enter the number took a few more back-n-forths along similar lines…)
    !!! and WTF??
    When I got back in my car, I noticed that it was only 7:15, plus someone had just parked next to me – probably her 7:30 appointment person!
    Made me wonder how on Earth she’d survived-in-the-world this long???

    Like

  3. Pingback: A Picture Is Worth 1000 Words (Re-Blog) | Cordelia's Mom, Still

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