Being cut down (which is rough when you’re only 5’2’’)

A few weeks ago, my ego took quite a beating. As it was both humiliating and awkward, I decided not to blog it. However, a similar situation occurred yesterday. I think that if I make my humiliation public it will stop happening.

OOPS #1:
A few weeks ago, I entered a patient’s room to speak with the family regarding a study. After I introduced myself, the mother got excited and said, “When are you due?”
“What?” I asked, not sure if I had heard her correctly.
“I said when are you due?”
Completely stunned and unable to come up with anything witty or clever I said, “I’m not pregnant.”
The mother considered this.
“Hmm,” she said at last.

OOPS #2:
Yesterday, our youth praise band sang for the congregation (Andy and I are the leaders for this band). The kids performed very well. On my way out of the sanctuary, I was stopped by a woman who praised the band up and down. “Oh! Your kids are simply wonderful!” she said.
“Thank you,” I responded. “They work very hard.”
“Oh, they are fantastic, especially your son! What a talent!”
Thinking of our youngest member of our band (an eleven year old boy) I said, “Oh, he’s not my son.”
“Really? That tall redhead playing guitar isn’t your son?”
Ouch. Only then did it occur to me that she meant Andy. She thought Andy was my son. I informed her that Andy was my husband and four years older than me. I thanked her for her kind words and went to find someplace where I could be alone and cry a little bit.

Do you have a call back number?

For months, nay years, I have had an overwhelming desire to do something. I am reminded of my desire several times a day and have always restrained myself. Yesterday, I could not help it. I finally caved in to my hearts will and acted completely on impulse.

Almost every single person I speak with from an insurance company asks me the stupidest question ever posed: “Do you have a call back number?” Well, obviously I’m calling from a phone. Obviously, that phone is in working order. It’s just an overall ridiculous question to ask.

I have spent much time pondering a response suitable for such a question. Some are silly, all are sarcastic. I have considered: “No”, “Actually, I don’t have a phone; I am using my thumb and pinky fingers”, “Wow! Does your can have a number? How did you get that?”, “What’s a call-back number?” so on and so forth.

Yesterday was the apex.

Agent: Thank you for calling blah blah insurance company! This is Trish; may I have your name?

Candace: Hi, Trish. This is Candace from Orthopedics. I am calling to check benefits for this patient for outpatient surgery.

Agent: Great! I can certainly help you with that! Do you have a callback number?

Candace: Yes.

Agent: (confused silence). Candace?

Candace: Yes?

Agent: Do you have a callback number?

Candace: Yes.

Agent: Um, may I have it?

Candace: Oh, you’d like it? Oh, ok… (continue with conversation)

After years of toiling with such a temptation, I finally did it. Without giggling, I was a complete smart Alec to one of those who drives me absolutely crazy.

Untitled.

To Dr. Exceptionally-bad-taste-in-food:

I find your taste in sandwiches appallingly bad. What in the world would possess you to order a sandwich which holds the words ‘liver’ and ‘worst’ in its very title? Granted, the office orders lunch once a week and everyone is free to choose whatever he/she wants, but I find your choice both offensive and disgusting.

Not only are we subjected to watching you chew that vile mass of God knows what, but our nostrils will be raped by the foul odor which a liverwurst sandwich no doubt emits.

So, thank you for violating us in the place of our work. I am concerned that your lack of regard for others will continue and lead to the possibility of you ordering something worse in the future. Possibly tuna fish, God forbid.

Most sincerely,

Your disgruntled worker,

Candace

PS- the buttermilk and raw onion you requested to garnish your liverwurst sandwich will be provided but such actions are not condoned.

Fed up with FedEx

FedEx is not a service I use on a regular basis. In fact, I am not sure I have ever used it. I usually go to my trusty UPS store and send packages that way. In my 24 years of living I have never sent anything FedEx. That said, you can imagine my severe anxiety when my boss handed me a thick stack of papers and asked me to ‘FedEx’ them.

I took a breath and told myself that it really couldn’t be that hard. People send things through FedEx everyday. First, I had to obtain an envelope and shipping form. This was easy because I know where the stash is hidden in our office. With both items in hand, I sat down to fill it out. Again, no problem. I had the address in front of me. I checked the appropriate boxes and filled it out. I put the hefty document into the envelope, sealed it, and reviewed the shipping form to place it properly on the envelope. It said remove the back and stick firmly to the front of the envelope.

Here was my struggle. On the front of the envelope there are contradicting directions as to where one should place the shipping form. There is writing at the top that says ‘place top of form here.’ There is writing at the bottom that says ‘place bottom of form here.’ Well, the shipping form is not that big. The third option is the little cellophane window on the back of the envelope which says ‘Place airbill here’.

Panicked, I went online. I searched images of FedEx envelops on Google and couldn’t find a single picture that showed an envelope with the shipping form on it. I then searched the FedEx page for some sort of instruction. No go. Apparently, you have to be really stupid to not know how to put the shipping form on the envelope. I immediately emailed Andy. I told him, “I don’t know how to send a FedEx!” His response was, “Neither do I, but it can’t be that hard. Maybe you should look online.”

Full of embarrassment and realizing that I only had 15 minutes before the FedEx pickup, I made a decision and stuck the shipping form on the envelope. As soon as I did stuck the piece of paper on the envelope, a dark cloud covered my desk. I had done it wrong.

Hanging my head in shame I approached my boss (who thought I had sent the package long ago) and said, “Stupid question for you. Which way does the shipping form go on the envelope?” My boss looked at me with the “you-have-got-to-be-kidding” type of look and indicated “This way.” Damn it.

I retrieved a new envelope and shipping form, filled them out again, and put the shipping form on with my boss looking over my shoulder.

I guess the silver lining is that I now know how to FedEx.