Sometimes I wonder if other people notice what a spaz I am, or if it’s just me? I feel like it’s pretty noticeable. I trip over things, spill stuff on myself, get my words confused, ask unnecessary questions, and the list could go on. I always hope that it comes off as endearing. If not, atleast my intentions are pure. That counts right?
There are a few areas where I shine though. I make friends easily, so that’s a positive. And, I’m usually good with remembering names. Also very useful. I’m afraid my skills might be lagging a little bit lately, though.
I don’t usually run deliveries for Skyline. There are a few reasons for this:
1) I’m bad with directions. And when I run deliveries, I have to string together a bunch of different places into one cohesive drive so that I’m not back-tracking. It’s a difficult task for me, to say the least. Which is to say that I back track a lot.
2) I’m the one who sits behind a desk all day and answers emails for all of the customers that we make the deliveries to. So, it’s hard to get away at the time that the deliveries need to be made.
But, occasionally, I’m the one who has to go out. Which happened this week, twice.
I had to go one day to meet with a teacher that saw us at the Teacher Expo. He’s a spry, little old man, with wire rimmed spectacles. I hope you’re getting a good picture of him. His name is Leroy. He’s sweet and called me to talk for 10 minutes about his robotics team that he needed to order polos for. We had a good chat and I told him I’d bring by some samples.
Fast forward to me walking into the school. I walk up to the desk in the office and they ask me to sign in. The secretary informs me that they would usually scan my driver’s license, but the machine is broken. (Which was good for me, seeing as how I had forgotten my driver’s license at home that day and was driving around all day without my ID. What was that about being a spaz?) So, sign in. Check.
Then, she asks me: who are you here to see?
At this point, I remember his name is Leroy, but I can’t think of what his last name is. So, instead of just saying that, I say the first last name that pops in my head.
As in the baddest one in the whole town. The one who is meaner than a junkyard dog.
(If you’re not following me, check out Jim Croce’s album: Photographs and Memories. One of my favorite albums, lots of classics.)
The secretary looks at me and I’m not even sure she understood my accidental reference. Instead, she says his correct last name questioningly, to which I say, yes! and take off towards his classroom. Like a spaz.
Next up: an elementary school to deliver 5 cases of shirts. This is a whole new level of obstacles for me. We have a little cart that folds up nicely and fits in my car. But, getting it out and unfolded to haul the boxes in? Not very easy.
I get it out, stare at it for a few minutes in the parking lot, trying to decipher how all of these parts work together, finally get it unfolded and load 4 of the boxes on, and barely make it in the door without all the boxes spilling off in the entryway.
I bring them into the office, the secretary instructs me on where to put them and goes to take care of something else.
As I’m unloading them in the designated area, the principal (who I’ve never met before) walks by. He greets me and thanks me for delivering them as he’s walking into his office, right by my boxes. So, I respond conversationally, still moving boxes around. He had just walked into his office, when I heard him say: and your name is who?
So, I respond by saying my name.
I hear him say again: your name is who?
(I realize this isn’t exactly proper grammar, but we’re in Arkansas and it actually is a “what’s your name?” phrase that can be used.)
So, I respond again, saying my name more loudly this time.
He, then, comes out of his office, laughing. And he says, Brittney, I’ve got a student in my office. His name is Who.
Guys, I’m officially giving up the name game. If you need me, I’ll be at my desk.