Honestly, some people can be quite inconsiderate. It’s my sister’s birthday on Monday, so I thought it was quite helpful of me to arrange delivery of her present to her workplace for tomorrow, as I know she’s taking the day of her birthday off and it’s always a nuisance to have to toddle down to the post office to pick up parcels. I rang her, to check the address.
“Oh, I’m taking the day off tomorrow too.”
What? Really, didn’t it occur to her that I leave things as late as possible – but, on the hand, not to the very last minute? Doesn’t she know, after all this time, for she’s known me all my life and most of hers, that I rely on people doing what I expect although I reserve the right to du different* myself?
Anyway, it’s all right (it always is) because she’s going into town on Saturday to go the hairdresser so can pop into the office and pick it up.
I had a phone call from the electricity chappie, who was down at the church, wanting to make an appointment to put in a replacement meter. After a brief chat, I suggested that the best thing would be to lend him a key to the room where the meter is – the church itself is always open and I leapt with awkward agility on my bike and went to meet him and show him around.
Yes, I looked at his ID before entrusting him with the key.
I noticed that I used my most professional helpful manner, to the extent that I remembered his name and used it when saying goodbye (you think this always happens? My memory is rubbish). Natural charm would have been quite sufficient, but I was doing the full “it’s my pleasure.”
*this is what we do in Norfolk. It’s our motto.