The Tone

Autoplay just brought up "End of my Rope".  Good song. 

I have done pretty well with the stress today, only minor freaking out about the business. 

I didn't do so well on the ride home from Walmart, though.  I had gone to get a drink because Ron told me I had 10 minutes. 

When I got back to the cart a strange woman had picked up my they-don't-make-them-anymore tote bag by one strap, guaranteed to destroy the bag, and had one of my other bags in her other hand.  I tried to take them from her but she said "I have it". 

I told her "You're going to rip the bag if you carry it like that, can you PLEASE set it down so I can carry it properly?"  She did, and walked off with my insulated tote bag. 

I had a stainless steel mixing bowl, some aluminum cake pans, and a quart of heavy cream in the insulated bag.  You can imagine my horror when I found her hanging the straps of the bag over the seat back, and making aggressove push-up motions, pushing with all her might, on the bag, trying to make it "lay flatter" I guess. 

I objected, stating "I have breakables in there".  She gaped at me as though it had never occurred to her. 

Here's a hint - insulated tote bags have things like milk, eggs, meat, vegetables, fruits, and things that CANNOT BE CRUSHED without ruining them.  I snatched that one away from her and set it on the floor by my feet (we were riding the big van). 

"Don't crush the groceries" would seem to be a common sense item "every" driver would know. 

The driver was a white woman, young enough to be my daughter, and, I felt, sadly lacking in common sense.  I did tell her "I'm sorry I wasn't at the cart, but my husband told me I had 10 minutes". 

I didn't have anything nice to say so I just shut up.  The driver was pretty pissed I put the bags by my feet (out of the way) because I guess, in her world, they had to go where she wanted them.  We were a "straight trip" so it's not like they would have impeded anyone getting on and off anyway. 

I usually give directions when we take the shortest route, because it is very easy to miss the turnoff to the subdivision.  Ron always tells me not to tell them, the GPS will direct them. 

The driver completely missed the turnoff and had to drive 2 miles out of the way.  I didn't say a word, until Ron asked our location.  I just stated the location and he knew. 

I could have said "We turn here" but I was still pretty pissed (I'm a Christian, but I am still human and working on my flaws).  I knew I would have had an ugly tone of voice.  Ron calls it "THE TONE".  He hates the tone and says it is very evocative, saying everything I am trying not to say. 

So, I said nothing, going back again to Dad's rule about not saying anything if you have nothing nice to say (or a nice tone of voice to say it in).  We finally got home, I grabbed my stuff, and leapt off as if I'd been bitten. 

I didn't say anything.  Normally I thank the driver but all I had in mind was "Thanks a lot for ruining my stuff". 

I had bought some individually wrapped cookies to share with the drivers, and even had one package in my shirt pocket, but did not share it with her.  I just didn't have it.   Again, I admit it, I failed as a Christian. 

I think that's one of the lessons God taught me today "I don't have it on my own.  I can only do what I do in His power.  What's in me is ugly and needs a lot of work."  Also, that I have a lot to go on the patience and being territorial about my stuff, thing. 

Ron had been telling me I should give her one of my Syria tracts, but I didn't have any.  Ron acted as if it were a huge tragedy, and I thought "I'm sorry, Lord, but You will have to send her someone else." 

When we got home, I immediately opened my bag, and found everything in perfect condition.   She must have been shoving on the stainless mixing bowl.  Thank God she didn't crush my cream.  That would have been a ghastly mess.  Not to mention aluminum cake pans (the fragile kind, which I had) don't work very well if you smash them and those plastic snap on lids don't like aggressive force either.... 

"I'm a racist" I told Ron.  "I really don't want the white drivers.  I want a black driver!  They have common sense!  Or a latino!  No.  White.  Drivers!"   He went and hid in his room.  He knows it takes me a little while to calm down. 

Every time.  Every time I have felt unsafe riding paratransit, we had a white driver.  [shudder] 

Of course, admitting all this probably means I will have "nothing but" for a while.  [grin]

It took me a while to get to the point where I could forgive her.  I understand she is just an ignorant kid, lacking common sense, trying to make a living.  She probably has a kid or two at home. 

But, in my opinion, she needs to find another line of work.  I shudder to think of her on the freeway.