Spastically running errands this morning I ventured to the office of post. I left my JEEP running, grabbed the p.o. box key and bolted for the door. Board meeting days at our humble non-profit are often chaotic, and today was no exception. So, I had to step it up to get back in time to set up the food and all.
Note: Feeding your board members keeps them docile.
Like I was saying, I bolted for the door. Gonna to get in and out in a flash! Nearing the entrance, I see the reflection of an old dude closing in behind me. I hear myself selfishly thinking, "Man! I have no time!" My body and mind grapple.
body: Move it.
mind: Be polite.
body: We like to move it. Move it.
mind: Hold the door you wench.
It was a definite struggle to shift back into a lower gear and actually wait a second and a half for the guy to make it through the door. His eyes sparkled as he walked in.
"You're a lady and a scholar," he said with a smile. I was rendered powerless. Offering sort of a half giggle I returned the smile, stumbled away from the door and to my little metal box destination.
Why doesn't anyone talk like that anymore? Obviously this guy does, but I'm sure he's a dying breed. Suddenly, I yearned for patent leather shoes, Donna Reed hair and a beau.