I had inside bank business today. I had to get my notary renewal notarized so I can keep notarizing forms for a neighbor and get my ATM card linked to my savings account. This would usually warrant a meeting with a personal banker, but she was super busy with a very important man in a suit with a briefcase, so I was assigned to a teller.
While I was waiting for the teller to process things, my eyes took a tour around her cubicle. And there, taped to the fabric wall, was a 3rd generation Xerox copy of "Delightful Words and Phrases" by Bank of America.
It then became my job to see how many I could elicit from Teller Angie. I couldn't read them all due to my aging eyes, but I saw enough to know that "Absolutely" and "I understand" were part of the repertoire. She hit a few; I was impressed.
I have been known to turn a word or phrase. Sometimes they are Carson-show caliber quotes, sometimes it is Kathy Griffin gutter talk. But I am always delightful.
Like today, in the grocery store parking lot. An able-bodied woman in a van cut a hard right in front of me to get a handicapped spot. And then backed up at me to realign. Which cause me to jump back and let my grocery cart roll over my bunion. I stood for a moment and gave her the "You done?" look, and then pushed on. She apologized and I said "It's OK."
Why did I let her off the hook? Because I am delightful.
I was pleasant in my first post-grad school job (that's M.A., not B.S.) which paid $19,000/year, no benefits, when I told the hospitals that it was my honor to provide their on-hold messaging systems. I was pure joy when as PR Director at a prep school I forgave the past-due football ad payments of celebrity-TV judges' kids. I exuded mirth when a crony for my current boss' ex-husband fired me from a major TV network by asking "What is it exactly that you do for us?" I was a model of happiness when dealing with fellow Christians who needed mission brochures yesterday and then brought me apology bath salts after they yelled at me in staff meeting. I was simply giddy when the boss from hell told me that I was her first problem employee in 65 years.
What I am trying to say is that I felt Teller Angie's pain. Often in our lives, we have to put on a happy face, either because we're being paid to, or because we are on auto-pilot for the high road. So, I smiled broadly, thanked her profusely, and wished her a good day.
Sometimes being nice is a bitter pill to swallow. But most of the time, it is the right and Southern Lady thing to do. And it feels good to be right, especially if someone else is really, scandalously, obviously, wrong.
Until next time, keep crowin' and be sweet!