Saturday, November 6, 2010

Everyone has a story.

My dear friend,

Yesterday was a day of people.  I had to drop my car off at the dealership early in the morning for an oil change and my 60,000 mile check up.  This visit would take multiple hours and knowing how much I love hanging at the dealership to read and study, I had far too much to get done to enjoy such a blissful event.  So, I asked for a shuttle to take me to my destination.  As I sat there, the receptionist who I have briefly spoken to when I am there, came out to clean up their new coffee/hot cocoa/popcorn bar.  To this day, I still have no clue what her name is, but I think she is a hoot to talk to.  I will name her Wanda for now.  She looks like a Wanda.

Wanda is 64 years old and is of Asian decent.  She has worked for the dealership for a very long time and has a full opinion about all people should be able to carry a gun on them.  Grocery store parking lots especially.  As Wanda was cleaning up, I turned to her and said hello.  She replied a brief hello back.  I then asked her how she was doing and she lit up with the invitation for a conversation.  She had told me that she liked working at the dealership and that she also has a part time job to pay for her bills.   She teaches children on how to understand their brain thought process and better develop their brain developement.  This was the coolest conversation.  She went on about how horrible caffeine and sugar are for the brain, especially in children and that our kids need more protein.  She loves her job, but being close to retirement age she didn't want to work much longer.  Wanda's husband use to have a second job so she would not have to, but his second job coaching the A-team for basketball became her second job and she couldn't handle it.  My heart went out to Wanda and I enjoyed my conversation with her.  She just wanted to be heard and tell her story and I hope that my listening ear made her day a bit better.

I then hopped into the shuttle with an elderly gentleman that I have been driven before by.  Again, no clue what his name is, so we will call him Carl.  Carl asked me if I was going into work and looking down at my workout clothes, I declined and said I was in a round about way on my way home.  He asked me what I do for a living and I told him.  Carl works for the dealership as a driver from 7:00 am -11:00 am.  He enjoyed his job and was greatful for people like me needing a ride so he could keep his job.  Carl asked me more about my job and I told him it was a little hard right now as I have had to let go 2 coworkers in the last few months.   Managing people is tough business, especially if they don't want to work.  Carl told me about his years as a Supervisor at the Union Pacific Railroad and he understood what I was talking about.  I asked Carl how long he had worked there and he said 30 years with a proud grin.  He then told me that he wanted to be an artist and his dad got him a job at the railroad to pay for his college education so he could major in art.  Carl then became an apprentice and then the supervisor and never had the chance to go to school.  I asked him if he draws today and he said a little here and there.  He told me that his wife was inspired by his work and she started into oil paintings of landscapes that they display at their home and childrens homes.  I asked what he prefferred and he said that he would do oil paintings of portraits if he could.   I told him he should and he blushed. 

These two conversations have been on my mind a lot lately.  Everyone has a story.  Everyone wants to be heard.  Everyone needs some sort of validation.  I really enjoyed talking to Wanda and Carl because they taught me so much from their life experiences.  Usually, I am pretty shy and dont' say much when I am around people, but I think I am going to try harder to find out more stories of the lives of those around us. 

I have a story to tell you:

Yesterday, as I was cleaning my house, the doorbell rang.  I never answer the door unless I know who it is.  I peered through the window and saw 2 men standing at my door.  Each had a beer can in their hand which they drank from and one was smoking a cigarette.  If these were salesmen, I would NEVER buy something from that.  I didn't aswer the door and the men headed back to their truck that was parked in front of my house.  They stood there as they were drinking their beers and then they started unloading their belongings on my front yard.  Coolers, blankets, beer, sleeping bags, food etc.  What the?

I called Brian and told him what was going on and he told me to call the cops.  I probably would have gone out to talk to them to see what was going on but there were two problems:  a.  Alcohol was involved.  Being alone, a woman, I was not touching that one.  b. I was out numbered.   Being alone, a woman, I was not touching that one. 

I called my neighbor next door to see if they might be her husbands friends.   He goes camping a lot with his buddies.  She looked out her window and didn't know them either.  Hence, I called the police station with my regular phone and I can hear Brian on my cell phone asking for keys to a vehicle to get home to me.  I had his truck (remember I left my car at the dealership) and he was racing home to help me.  2 phones at each ear and dispatch would not let me hang up with them until an officer arrived.  Neither would Brian.

Finally, a cop car pulled up and a police officer got out and spoke with the gentleman.  Unfortunately, the gentlemen had finished their beers and thrown them in my trash can right before the officer arrived.  They looked a little upset that a cop car showed up.  He spoke with them and then the police officer came to my door and rang the bell.  I opened the door with the men staring at me and the officer explained that they thought they were at a house meeting a friend for the U of U game.  The officer  explained that they had the wrong house, a young woman who was alone called the police and they needed to leave.  They apologized and packed all their stuff up and left very quickly.  Right after everyone left, Brian came zooming in his dad's truck to have missed the whole event.  He said he drove 80 the whole way except in the constrution and that made him mad.  I explained to him what happened even though he was on the phone with me the entire time.  We laughed and then Brian left and I resumed my cleaning.

I tell ya.  My life is quite the adventure lately.  NEVER a boring day.  So there's my story for the day.   Oh, I forget!  I didn't tell it right.  Every great story starts with a "So there we were......."   and ends with a "and I found $20.00."  So I will leave you with this:

"and I found $20.00."

Always loyal and true,



Mom of twins ♥ said...

Wow, that last story is crazy! I never open my door unless I know I am expecting someone either, esp when I am home alone with the kids. Glad that they were just at the wrong house!

Jenice Henrie said...

Your stories were very interesting. In the past, a lot of people thought that I was somewhat a friendly person, but generally I would do what you did with your stories of Wanda and Carl. When I got nervous and no one was talking (i.e. waiting rooms, van rides, etc.), I would ask the person to talk about themselves. Here's where my personality problem comes into play. If they didn't talk about themselves, I would usually end up saying the wrong thing about myself or someone else because I get nervous with silence. Congratulations on having them talk about themselves. Now I need a solution for the long moments of silence. Any advice?

BTW, then I found $20. I love that ending.


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