What'd You Say, Dearie?

I've been thinking about some happenings in the senior high rise where I used to work. It was at Decatur Christian Towers that I learned what I wanted to be when I grew up. Also learned what I didn't want to be when I grew up. (smile)

A resident, Mrs. Thompson, was extremely hard of hearing. After calculating what her rent would be for the next year, I called her to come to my office to discuss the change.

She met me at the receptionist's desk. I invited her back to my office - - the inner sanctum. :) She declined saying that she was in a hurry. Mrs. Thompson asked what her rent would be and I again motioned for us to go into my office for a bit of privacy. The lobby was filled with other residents chatting and getting their mail. Mrs. Thompson once again declined telling me there was no time.

Knowing it would be improper to blab a resident's rent amount for anyone to hear, I wrote it down for her. As I handed the slip of paper to her, she couldn't read the small writing. (I know, you're probably thinking, why didn't she just step in my office already. She could have found out and been gone by now! Exactly!) I wrote it larger and was still unsuccessful with communication. Finally, Mrs. Cooper told me to just tell her what it would be.

Going against everything I believed about propriety and decorum, I cupped my hands around her ear and whispered her rent to her loudly. A quizzical look came over her face and I tried again, to no avail. Finally in desperation, Mrs. Thompson looked at me anxiously weighing her need to leave with her curiosity to know her new rent. She finally said to me, "Oh, for goodness sake, just tell me!" With that, I told her what her rent would be so that she could hear. She frantically glanced all around the lobby and told me in no uncertain terms to SHHH! as others could hear!

Duh...

Head scratching,
Lila