Yesterday I dropped Betty off at a day care center. She reads to kids. What a great gig. And NB was in the car, too. He piped up that she has a wonderful voice for story-telling. He won her over right then.
NB has been in pharmacy for 32 years - about half of it in forensic toxicology with Chicago law enforcement. He says he could tell some stories. I believe him. I listen and guess his ethnic origin as Arab.
“Pretty good,” he said, “I’m impressed. Most people think I’m Greek or Mexican.”
Really? I thought ... with an accent like that?
“I’m originally from Egypt.” he says.
I should have said Egypt. I knew it was Egypt. I got to go with my gut more often.
He bought his car with us ten years ago and has been coming for service ever since. We’re doing a great job.
Further, his car was done earlier than expected and I was able to pick him up before my shift was over. His wife was coming along and they were headed to Bed, Bath and Beyond to return some stuff. When I told him that’s what he was doing he looked at me like I was a mind reader.
“No, I just see your wife getting in the back seat with the BB&B bag from the store.” I told him. He laughed.
“And, what’s your name,” I asked his wife.
“You can call me Irene,” she said. “No one here can say my name.”
“Really?” I challenged, “I’ll bet I can.”
He gave her a nod.
All of a sudden I realized that I was backing out of their driveway and there was no way I could read her lips. I thought I might have gone too far.
Irene, indeed.
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Friday Friday Friday
Friday I took Angel to Conejitos. I think I’ve driven him before. He doesn’t speak any English - or that’s what he’d like me to think. And he’s a chatty fellow. He wants to talk - in Spanish - about the relative merits of the Honda and the Hyundai. Which did I think was better? Well, I said, in my passable Spanish, I have never driven either of these so - I don’t have an opinion.
Finally I told him - in Spanish again - that I was sorry, I can’t drive and chat in the second language. Too much thinking. Too tired and hungry.
“¿Porque no comes??
Why don’t I eat?
Driving. Driving. Driving.
When I returned I was dispatched to the airport to pick up Marty at AirTran. I cued his phone number to be ready. Halfway to the airport I get a call from the dealership from another service adviser. Could I also pick up Jason? He’s also coming in on AirTran. I pull over on Grange Ave. and scribble his number down.
I get into the line at the airport and dial Marty. He’s with Tara and they’re coming in from NY/NJ with enough luggage for a wedding in Chenequa. I then dial Jason. And he is with his wife and a baby in a bucket. They have enough luggage for ... I never did find out what. We squeezed the baby bucket into the back seat and mom fastened Addison in. I couldn’t really open my door into traffic so Marty and Jason did all the loading and we all fit - barely. I never did hear the mom’s name. And the baby was the topic for the middle and back seats the whole way.
Marty and Tara had a little time before the rehearsal dinner and wanted to see the Calatrava and “what else?” he asked. Lakefront, Alterra, Marina as long as you’re so close. Or, the river walk and the shops on Broadway and Chicago. Third Ward. That’s what I told him. I do not think I’d like being an airport cabbie.
Both couples were coming in to our rental department. Apparently we have better rates than the airport Enterprise lot.
Before I could get these folks offloaded, Xeng - a Hmong fellow, was getting ready for a ride home. Thank goodness there was only one of him and his English was good.
Finally I told him - in Spanish again - that I was sorry, I can’t drive and chat in the second language. Too much thinking. Too tired and hungry.
“¿Porque no comes??
Why don’t I eat?
Driving. Driving. Driving.
When I returned I was dispatched to the airport to pick up Marty at AirTran. I cued his phone number to be ready. Halfway to the airport I get a call from the dealership from another service adviser. Could I also pick up Jason? He’s also coming in on AirTran. I pull over on Grange Ave. and scribble his number down.
I get into the line at the airport and dial Marty. He’s with Tara and they’re coming in from NY/NJ with enough luggage for a wedding in Chenequa. I then dial Jason. And he is with his wife and a baby in a bucket. They have enough luggage for ... I never did find out what. We squeezed the baby bucket into the back seat and mom fastened Addison in. I couldn’t really open my door into traffic so Marty and Jason did all the loading and we all fit - barely. I never did hear the mom’s name. And the baby was the topic for the middle and back seats the whole way.
Marty and Tara had a little time before the rehearsal dinner and wanted to see the Calatrava and “what else?” he asked. Lakefront, Alterra, Marina as long as you’re so close. Or, the river walk and the shops on Broadway and Chicago. Third Ward. That’s what I told him. I do not think I’d like being an airport cabbie.
Both couples were coming in to our rental department. Apparently we have better rates than the airport Enterprise lot.
Before I could get these folks offloaded, Xeng - a Hmong fellow, was getting ready for a ride home. Thank goodness there was only one of him and his English was good.
Saturday, July 21, 2012
Twain on Travel
I do declare. I have gone 'round the world and back in the customer service shuttle.
People marvel at my ability to speak to them in their own name.
I chalk it up to my many years as an envoy at the UN.
:-)
Actually - listening is key.
"... nothing so liberalizes a man and expands the kindly instincts that nature put in him as travel and contact with many kinds of people." ~ Mark Twain
People marvel at my ability to speak to them in their own name.
I chalk it up to my many years as an envoy at the UN.
:-)
Actually - listening is key.
"... nothing so liberalizes a man and expands the kindly instincts that nature put in him as travel and contact with many kinds of people." ~ Mark Twain
Mary and Harry
The New Testament; Mary and Harry
Mary was first in, first out at 113th and Rawson. I asked her what she was doing while she waited at home for her car.
“House work.”
“Well, you’ll feel better when that’s done.” I said.
“It’s never done.”
Alright then. Moving along ...
“Harry! What are you doing today?”
“I’m finishing up a paper I am giving at a conference in Germany in August.”
“Well,” I said, “isn’t that something. What’s the paper on?”
“My research and further interpretations on the Q narrative in the New Testament.”
“Welcome aboard,” I said, offering my hand, “you’re the first Q researcher I’ve ever met.”
“Q?” Mary asked.
“Yes,” Harry said, “there were different source writers in the Gospels and we believe that the Q writer is the most authentic voice of Jesus coming through any of the Gospels. Matthew and Luke borrowed heavily from Mark and John was on his own.”
Harry is a lifelong professor that retired two years ago. When I asked how it was going he said, with a noticeable glee in his voice, that he gets to write all the time now. He translates from old Greek, German, and some French into English, I suppose.
Imagine that. Writing all the time. How wonderful for him.
Later in the morning I picked both of them up and took them back to the dealership - one at a time. Mary said she wished we’d decided to take him home first so she could have spent more time asking him questions. Mary also seemed to have a grip on the New Testament.
She did allow that she favors the divinely inspired camp of bible readers and thinks that Harry’s a skeptic that needs to prove something.
I, the writer/driver, kind of favor the Buddhist Nagarjuna when he offered all four possibilities.
Yes. No. Both yes and no. Neither yes, nor no.
Similarly, Mu, a word from Japanese Zen indicates that a quicker way around is to un-ask the question. And that reminds me of my father saying: “You can’t get there from here.”
On we go.
Mary was first in, first out at 113th and Rawson. I asked her what she was doing while she waited at home for her car.
“House work.”
“Well, you’ll feel better when that’s done.” I said.
“It’s never done.”
Alright then. Moving along ...
“Harry! What are you doing today?”
“I’m finishing up a paper I am giving at a conference in Germany in August.”
“Well,” I said, “isn’t that something. What’s the paper on?”
“My research and further interpretations on the Q narrative in the New Testament.”
“Welcome aboard,” I said, offering my hand, “you’re the first Q researcher I’ve ever met.”
“Q?” Mary asked.
“Yes,” Harry said, “there were different source writers in the Gospels and we believe that the Q writer is the most authentic voice of Jesus coming through any of the Gospels. Matthew and Luke borrowed heavily from Mark and John was on his own.”
Harry is a lifelong professor that retired two years ago. When I asked how it was going he said, with a noticeable glee in his voice, that he gets to write all the time now. He translates from old Greek, German, and some French into English, I suppose.
Imagine that. Writing all the time. How wonderful for him.
Later in the morning I picked both of them up and took them back to the dealership - one at a time. Mary said she wished we’d decided to take him home first so she could have spent more time asking him questions. Mary also seemed to have a grip on the New Testament.
She did allow that she favors the divinely inspired camp of bible readers and thinks that Harry’s a skeptic that needs to prove something.
I, the writer/driver, kind of favor the Buddhist Nagarjuna when he offered all four possibilities.
Yes. No. Both yes and no. Neither yes, nor no.
Similarly, Mu, a word from Japanese Zen indicates that a quicker way around is to un-ask the question. And that reminds me of my father saying: “You can’t get there from here.”
On we go.
Saturday, July 14, 2012
Wild Flower Lawn
Friday, July 13, 2012
Two Mister Lee
In one day I had two men named Lee in the shuttle. Both of them with AC problems. Both of them with a cooler ride home.
The first Mister Lee is from South Viet Nam. He’s works as a tae kwon do instructor. We talked about breathing and movement. We might speak of that more at a later date. He married a Thai woman. She's very smart and he admits to being lucky guy. She was born in China and moved to Thailand before coming here. They both speak English - thank goodness. She does not speak Vietnamese and he speaks no Thai or Chinese.
Mister Lee number two was born in South Korea. His family emigrated to Brazil when he was three years old. They stayed 15 years before coming to the States 30 years ago. His parents kept the native language instruction alive in him and he’s still fluent in Korean. He has forgotten most of his Portuguese. Here’s a guy that can tell you how great America is and you know he has something to compare to.
The next day I take two Asian women - a grandmother/granddaughter couple - to Steins Garden Center a block from the dealership. They were going to buy plants while their car was being serviced. The plan was to pick one of them up while the other guarded the purchases.
When their car was ready I called them for pickup. The younger asked if I could wait another 15 minutes. They had walked across the street to Pho Viet and were finishing lunch. I pulled up to the restaurant in 10 minutes and they were waiting outside already.
When the grandmother got in I asked her how she liked it.
“Good. Next time. You come with us. Have noodle.”
I am continually amazed at the good people coming through the dealer service drive.
The first Mister Lee is from South Viet Nam. He’s works as a tae kwon do instructor. We talked about breathing and movement. We might speak of that more at a later date. He married a Thai woman. She's very smart and he admits to being lucky guy. She was born in China and moved to Thailand before coming here. They both speak English - thank goodness. She does not speak Vietnamese and he speaks no Thai or Chinese.
Mister Lee number two was born in South Korea. His family emigrated to Brazil when he was three years old. They stayed 15 years before coming to the States 30 years ago. His parents kept the native language instruction alive in him and he’s still fluent in Korean. He has forgotten most of his Portuguese. Here’s a guy that can tell you how great America is and you know he has something to compare to.
The next day I take two Asian women - a grandmother/granddaughter couple - to Steins Garden Center a block from the dealership. They were going to buy plants while their car was being serviced. The plan was to pick one of them up while the other guarded the purchases.
When their car was ready I called them for pickup. The younger asked if I could wait another 15 minutes. They had walked across the street to Pho Viet and were finishing lunch. I pulled up to the restaurant in 10 minutes and they were waiting outside already.
When the grandmother got in I asked her how she liked it.
“Good. Next time. You come with us. Have noodle.”
I am continually amazed at the good people coming through the dealer service drive.
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Welcome to Wisconsin
Tuesday a couple pulled in to the service drive for surprise diagnostics. I walked around the Prius, saw the Ohio plates and said, "Welcome to Wisconsin."
We needed a few hours to squeeze them into the schedule. After the paperwork we piled in to the shuttle and headed downtown. They'd been to the Milwaukee Public Market before and wanted to go back.
They're mostly retired and spend their summers in Fontana. When I mentioned I was originally from Williams Bay Bill told me that Daddy Maxwell's was his favorite restaurant anywhere. Laurie remembered it from the days it was called the Arctic Circle. Small world.
Bill was interested in breakfast and all I could think of was Alterra a little further south on Water Street. It was a beautiful morning and I invited them to explore the river walk on their way up to the Public Market.
Wonderful people. I wish I could have picked them up when their car was ready. They had such a good time they wrote me a letter.It's nice to know when you're doing a good job.
Dear Dave,
We were so disappointed not to be able to see you again yesterday afternoon, though we were ably transported back to the dealership by Zeke. Thanks to you we had a wonderful day in Milwaukee, starting at the coffeehouse, which, by the way, did have breakfast items in addition to great pastries. After sitting outside and reading the Journal Sentinel we then walked along the Riverwalk to the Public Market where, among other things, we found an area upstairs with tables and a kiosk of used books from the public library. I found a good one. We then ambled along in the 3rd ward and came across ReTique, an upscale Goodwill store where we bought a pair of shorts and a T shirt, as well as another book. That's when we found out that the car needed work that was going to take another 4 hours or so. Eventually we had lunch at a really nice spot outside--Swig. Books came in handy for the rest of the afternoon.
I wish we could have thanked you in person ..., our address in WI is ??? Fontana 53125. And also in case you get down to Lake Geneva, you'll know where to find us. Come visit us and bring your wife.
You made our day, and we think you're a great asset to the dealership. :)
Laurie B.
We needed a few hours to squeeze them into the schedule. After the paperwork we piled in to the shuttle and headed downtown. They'd been to the Milwaukee Public Market before and wanted to go back.
They're mostly retired and spend their summers in Fontana. When I mentioned I was originally from Williams Bay Bill told me that Daddy Maxwell's was his favorite restaurant anywhere. Laurie remembered it from the days it was called the Arctic Circle. Small world.
Bill was interested in breakfast and all I could think of was Alterra a little further south on Water Street. It was a beautiful morning and I invited them to explore the river walk on their way up to the Public Market.
Wonderful people. I wish I could have picked them up when their car was ready. They had such a good time they wrote me a letter.It's nice to know when you're doing a good job.
Dear Dave,
We were so disappointed not to be able to see you again yesterday afternoon, though we were ably transported back to the dealership by Zeke. Thanks to you we had a wonderful day in Milwaukee, starting at the coffeehouse, which, by the way, did have breakfast items in addition to great pastries. After sitting outside and reading the Journal Sentinel we then walked along the Riverwalk to the Public Market where, among other things, we found an area upstairs with tables and a kiosk of used books from the public library. I found a good one. We then ambled along in the 3rd ward and came across ReTique, an upscale Goodwill store where we bought a pair of shorts and a T shirt, as well as another book. That's when we found out that the car needed work that was going to take another 4 hours or so. Eventually we had lunch at a really nice spot outside--Swig. Books came in handy for the rest of the afternoon.
I wish we could have thanked you in person ..., our address in WI is ??? Fontana 53125. And also in case you get down to Lake Geneva, you'll know where to find us. Come visit us and bring your wife.
You made our day, and we think you're a great asset to the dealership. :)
Laurie B.
Saturday, July 7, 2012
Please and thank you.
On Good Friday morning I walked into the lounge and greeted the two guys waiting there.
Pat was in town from Kansas City over Easter to visit his mother. He’d brought her car in for service. What a good son.
He writes loss prevention insurance. When his clients ask how to prevent accidents he says, “Say please and thank you more often. When there’s respect, everything goes better.”
It’s lightweight oil that greases the machine.
The other guy was peeling a banana. He said he was a retired priest. “Sometimes I like to take the shuttle out and back just to meet people.”
When I asked him to come along he declined. He was having an oil change and was hoping to leave before I returned.
Too bad. He would have enjoyed himself. Maybe next time.
Pat was in town from Kansas City over Easter to visit his mother. He’d brought her car in for service. What a good son.
He writes loss prevention insurance. When his clients ask how to prevent accidents he says, “Say please and thank you more often. When there’s respect, everything goes better.”
It’s lightweight oil that greases the machine.
The other guy was peeling a banana. He said he was a retired priest. “Sometimes I like to take the shuttle out and back just to meet people.”
When I asked him to come along he declined. He was having an oil change and was hoping to leave before I returned.
Too bad. He would have enjoyed himself. Maybe next time.
Friday, July 6, 2012
Sister Mary Agnes
I was running a little late for my 8:30 run. I went in to the waiting area looking for three customers. There were two people engaging in pleasant and animated conversation with the service manager and an older woman sitting alone.
I announced myself and my intentions and the older woman verbally accosted me. She was extremely upset with the dealership and was nearly beside herself.
“Let me start again,” I said, “My name is David and I’m looking for three people that need a ride. At this point I do not know if you’re one of them or not. I am sorry you’re having a rough time. If I am taking you home you can tell me the whole story on the way.”
By now the two people talking to the service manager have left the room in the direction of the shuttle. I still did not know if they were riders or not.
“I have someone with me.” she said.
“I’ll look for the person. A man or a woman?”
“A man. He went out for a cigarette.”
“Did you see what direction?”
Turns out the fellow was in the cashiers office down an aisle looking at parts.
So, we load up the four of them and away we go. She said her name was Sister Mary Agnes and when she said damn something or other I made mention of it. Turns out she lied about being a nun.
Apparently all this froth was generated because the service writer apparently asked, “When would you like to pick up your car? About two?”
“I made an appointment,” she tells me, “It’s eight in the morning. I don’t know why a brake job should take until 2 o’clock! I have things to do. I need my car.”
She didn’t seem to realize that he had asked her two separate questions.
I invited her to make a counter offer next time.
Her car was done by 11:15 a.m. I called, told her I was coming and said she’d wait outside. I said it was hot out. Stay indoors. I’ll call again when I’m 15 or 20 blocks away.
She used to tend bar. She had some pretty good jokes.
It turns out all she needed was someone to pay attention to her.
Monday, July 2, 2012
Transit
I'm intending to move into this dedicated shuttle blog from the current blog: http://goodworkcards.wordpress.com/category/shuttlebug/
This is a temporary post - here to give you an idea of the people I meet.
This is a temporary post - here to give you an idea of the people I meet.
Non-Shuttle Time
Non-Shuttle Time
Last Sunday we were at Villa Terrace with our Waterford friends Bob and Mary listening to Macyn Taylor play fabulous finger-style guitar. She played for two hours straight - no break. Amazing.
During the program a woman that came up off my right shoulder and got my attention.
“I just wanted to say hi to my favorite shuttle driver.” she said.
“Hi.” “Hi.” was all it was and away she went. I knew I had just met her for the very first time earlier that week and did not immediately remember her name. (You should all be glad I am looking out the window while I’m driving.)
A couple days later we talked about that chance meeting again and she was a bit embarrassed. “That’s wasn’t fair of me not to introduce myself. You must meet so many people.” she said.
“Let me tell you a little story so that you don’t feel so alone,” I said. “Later during that same performance on Sunday a woman came up to me and said, “Are you David, the printer? You’re gray. I’m gray, but I see you’re still in there by your eyes.”
And, there stood Susie A. who did business with me when I managed a small print shop on North Avenue twenty-seven years ago.
To be recognized: simply beautiful.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Last Sunday we were at Villa Terrace with our Waterford friends Bob and Mary listening to Macyn Taylor play fabulous finger-style guitar. She played for two hours straight - no break. Amazing.
During the program a woman that came up off my right shoulder and got my attention.
“I just wanted to say hi to my favorite shuttle driver.” she said.
“Hi.” “Hi.” was all it was and away she went. I knew I had just met her for the very first time earlier that week and did not immediately remember her name. (You should all be glad I am looking out the window while I’m driving.)
A couple days later we talked about that chance meeting again and she was a bit embarrassed. “That’s wasn’t fair of me not to introduce myself. You must meet so many people.” she said.
“Let me tell you a little story so that you don’t feel so alone,” I said. “Later during that same performance on Sunday a woman came up to me and said, “Are you David, the printer? You’re gray. I’m gray, but I see you’re still in there by your eyes.”
And, there stood Susie A. who did business with me when I managed a small print shop on North Avenue twenty-seven years ago.
To be recognized: simply beautiful.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)