I heard of a story where a father asked his children what they wanted to be when they grew up, one of the them wanted to be a bus conductor because they always have a lot of money in their hands (ofcoarse not in some countries where money is deposited in a machine or passengers carry prepaid cards and passes), another wanted to be a house maid because she believed that they get to eat all the food they want since they fix the meals. I guess I had a better choice. Around my teen years I thought it would be cool to be a receptionist because they looked very nice wearing their smiles , many of those I envied were always in heels and every sound they made with a step shouted confidence, they sat in rotating chairs with wheels and swung in them with skill. Oh I envied them. In my small head, beautiful, exciting, fun, awesome, anything good about a job equaled a receptionist. The center of attraction, I thought they knew everyone and everyone knew them because they greeted everybody in a familiar way. Hmm, at some point in life I became one and I could write a book about being a receptionist if I knew how but I’ll spare you the whole drama and tell you a glimpse of it. This is a drop in the ocean.
Thank you for calling …..Medical center, this is T, how may I help you? 100 times a day and the answers were pretty much the same. This one time it was a young man and he wanted an appointment. Another client had cancelled so I asked him to come in a couple hours later. Nothing like the celebrity in my previous post, but he was good looking, about 6’1 with a great physic, in a dressy blue shirt, tacked in nicely and he looked very responsible, I could score him at 99%, I think I told myself that the days of petitioning God for his will were over and I needed to start thanking him for the creation standing right in front of me, because it fit so well. Long story short, several months later he asked me to dinner at his house with his other friends and I said amen, let it be. I appeared at my best. When I got to the address, I was a little confused because it didn’t at all look like a neighborhood he would be living in. I double checked and sure enough it was. I entered the house, it looked alright inside and a dozen of eyes welcomed in. At this point I had reduced my score to 65%. Everything was going on well until the last guests appeared, I had excused myself to the bathroom and I can’t tell how it started but when I returned, my good looking young man was on top of his guest punching him so hard, a lot of curse words in the air and when he finally let go of him, the guest asked my host how his new nigger girlfriend would think of what he’d just done. Everyone was silent.I don’t know what disappointed me most, being called a nigger, my “perfect” violent young man, being a receptionist or Skipping swimming to watch a fight? I don't know which one but I know his score dropped to 0%. And being a receptionist, isn't as fancy as I thought.