Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Unexpected fortune

Walking in neighborhoods every day is interesting to me. I get to see many service people, like myself, and watch progress on home additions, painting, landscaping projects, etc. If you've ever been to Berkeley, particularly in the hills, you know that the streets can be narrow, and very hilly. Since service people rarely park in clients' drives, the narrow and often precarious streets are jammed with trucks and autos of all kinds by 9 a.m. An unfortunate drywall delivery truck person for one particular home learned these troubles firsthand the other day. I was walking one of my little darlings with a full schedule for the day. When I finished and walked back to where my car was parked, I realized the drywall truck (completely loaded) was blocking me in. The poor guys had just finished assembling the walk-on ramp to prepare for unloading. As soon as they realized I was the owner of the car they needed to block for an optimum delivery...they immediately called some others out to clear the way for my exit. I apologized and told them it wouldn't matter but I was working, so rearranging my schedule wasn't an option. I realized they would lose at least 15 minutes to repack, move and then re-unpack the truck. I felt empathy for them, but what really surprised me was their cheerful and sweet attitude about it all. They even stopped traffic in both directions to allow me to safely extract myself from the precarious spot I was in.

So...and here's where I may drift into a bit of a rant...why can't we all go about our business in this way? Why can't more people be tolerant of those doing an honest day's work and slow the hell down once in a while to treat them like human beings. And, why can't more service people show the respect and pride in their service as these guys did? Am I alone in being bothered that today's postal delivery persons walk around with headphones stuck in their ears ignoring everyone around them? Or, even worse, with a bluetooth on so they can talk on the phone? No, mailperson...I am not interested in hearing you bitch to your girlfriend about your man and your kids. What happened to the days when a neighborhood was a neighborhood, and you knew my name and greeted me with hello and how are you? I'm sure it's not the same everywhere, but out here, the postal workers don't even wear uniforms...just a shirt with jeans or whatever they want. Somehow it's just not right.

Okay, I've digressed. I'm barking. And, I should be wagging. Have a good day, and please, be kind in your neighborhood.

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