The other day I picked up the phone at work and had a rather interesting discussion with the woman waiting on the other end of the line.  I learned that her 86 year old mother had a set of jersey sheets she absolutely loved but over time they had developed a few small holes.  I heard all about the conversation between a mother and a daughter that resulted in a call to the store where I work.  They decided to see if we still had iron on patches available.  I was able to tell her that we did and it was then I found out the woman calling was on crutches and planned to send her husband into the store to retrieve her “sheet mending” solution.  I could sense the buildup of several customers at the cutting counter while I was on the phone so to expedite the call I told the woman I would have a package of assorted patched waiting at the register for her husband when he arrived.

What happened next is a bit of a blur.  I know I got side tracked.  I know there wasn’t a single moment when I found myself wondering what to do next and then, out of no where, I heard the gal that had just picked up the ringing phone say, “Is there someone here that wants to talk to the customer on the phone about some iron on patches?  She’s beyond furious!”

I knew at that very moment, I was her girl.  I was the one this woman wanted to scream at and pulverize and I would most likely have ended up needing a few iron on patches myself had she decided to hobble into the store and beat me with her crutches!  Moments like this are so life changing.  There has to be an immediate spike in a person’s blood pressure that would most likely shatter the gauge and pop the cuff.  It’s good eye balls are firmly attached as they would most definitely pop right out of the sockets when the message sent from your brain reaches them if they weren’t stuck in there pretty good.  I told the gal that answered the phone, “I will handle this call.  I’m going to take it in the office.”  I knew I was going to need to sit down in order to come up with the level of schmoozing this customer was going to require.  Slowly I picked up the receiver and hit the “Line 1” button.  I told her my name and that I heard she was terribly upset and then I told her I was 100% at fault.  She delivered a rather short speech about how times have changed and that the whole world just doesn’t care anymore and that no one ever does what they say they’re going to do.  I sincerely apologized and went over the details of what had transpired when her husband arrived.  I never saw him and no one ever told me he was there but that another clerk had made an attempt to help him and he left with nothing.  I accepted full responsibility and offered to buy the patches for her and personally deliver them once I got off work.

The spitting and sputtering that followed reminded me of what a hot air balloon might sound like if someone were to blow a hole in it.  With my offer I had completely removed every bit of wind in her furious sails.  I jotted down her address, told her I was not one of those people she fears the world is full of but rather a human being that made a mistake.  I told her I was from a tiny little town and a bit old fashioned and that the only way I was going to be alright with what happened was to let me buy her patches and deliver them to her door.   She agreed and then told me she was getting ready to go out but that her husband would be home.  When I finally found her very nice split level home I sort of figured out where a part of her initial frustration may have been coming from.  There were approximately ten steps leading up to her front door and the railing was completely covered with a very thick and over productive vine.  I could barely get up and down the steps without falling and then I tried to imagine how much harder it would be if I were on crutches.

I’ve learned,  over the years,  that anger can sometimes be triggered by an event or occurrence that doesn’t play out exactly as you’ve imagined but more often than not, it’s a bit more complicated.  From my own experience, I’ve learned that I tend to overreact over something as insignificant as an iron on patch when I have some other, more substantial pain lingering inside.  I didn’t have to do what I did to make this woman happy but I, too, have a mother that isn’t as young as she used to be and I, too, want to do whatever it takes to make her life as happy and comfortable as I can so I suppose you could say, this very furious, lava spewing woman and her 86 year old mother with the holy sheets touched my heart in a way only a woman with an aging mother could understand!