“Well, That Sure Was Strange!”
Several years ago I had a secretary. She maintained the office. My responsibilities frequently required me to be away from the office. Therefore, she was there by herself most of the time. Whenever I came in she would catch me up on the news (who stopped by, what they wanted, who called, what they wanted, items there were on the calendar, errands that I needed to do, written things she needed from me, and so forth). When I happened to be in the office with her she respected my privacy by serving as the “filter” for visitors and phone calls. She always had a warm smile, a compassionate tone to her voice, an interest in my well-being, a treat for any kids that stopped by after school in the afternoons, and wonderful suggestions as to ways some challenging situations needed to be handled. She was excellent. I respected her work. Even today, years later, when I see her it adds to the beauty of my day.
One morning I stopped by the office. I was going to take the day off, spending it by getting a load or two of firewood. I was driving my truck and wearing clothing suited for the work I was going to do. She was “on the job”, doing the tasks that would fill her day. I chatted with her briefly, picked up a couple of things from my cluttered desk, and headed out. Upon exiting the building, heading to my truck, I noticed the UPS truck parking by the curb next to the office door. Glancing at the driver I quickly saw that he was not the one that usually brought things by the office. I assumed that he was a substitute. He saw me as I was opening my truck door. He motioned in order to gain my attention. He started towards me so I closed the door, without getting in, and walked towards him. He introduced himself and asked if I knew if this the door he needed to use to deliver his package. I assured him that it was. He thanked me and turned in the direction of the door. I then had an interesting idea hit me over the head. I called out to the UPS driver, “Hey, wait a minute. It might be helpful for you to know something about the secretary before you go in”. At that point (with my tongue planted firmly in my cheek) I proceeded to explain to him that he might have a difficult time communicating with the secretary. I told him that I had just left the office and was frustrated. I told him the reason for my frustration was that the secretary had conveyed to me the fact that she could not hear what I had been attempting to ask her. I told him that she had admitted to me that she, normally, depended upon two hearing aids to amplify the sounds she needed to hear; but, that she had forgotten them in her haste to get to the office that morning. So, I told him that he would need to get up real close to her and to speak very loudly in order for her to hear him. He thanked me and headed in. I hurriedly moved my truck around behind the building, out-of-sight. I got out and moved to a place where I could see him when he left. After several minutes, I watched him as he came out and got in his truck and left. I did notice that he appeared to be shaking and scratching his head as he did so.
Well, I waited a few minutes before re-entering the office. When I did, I found the secretary sitting with her head in her hands at her desk. I justified my return to the office by saying that I had forgotten something I needed. I went to my desk and shuffled some papers, retrieving one to take with me. I then turned to leave. Before leaving I said, “Are you OK?” She lifted her head, rolled her eyes, and said, “Well, that sure was strange!” In all innocence, I responded with a well-spoken, “What?” She said, “That UPS guy came in here, got right up in my face, and proceeded to talk to me as loudly as he could. Why, he was so close he spit all over me. I felt like slapping the snot out of him! He must have thought I couldn’t hear or something. I’d never seen him before. I wonder where he got that idea.” With a very straight face, I said, “Well, that sure was strange!”, as I headed for the exit door.
Now, there is no moral to this story. There are no valuable lessons to be taught. I am just grateful for the memory. There are times when I need a chuckle. Remembering the look on her face and the colorful way she expressed herself; my chuckle comes to be with me. I know. “Well, that sure is strange!” (One of these days I may get up enough courage to tell her what I did. But, then again, maybe I won’t.)