Incongruent Aspirants Serving the Ether,
In appearing completely unapproachable, I struggle to remember that I am accommodating, kind, polite, and additionally, a comic genius and that sometimes others can see this too.
As my date of birth became known - inadvertently, through my willingness to do a good deed (I loaned someone my swipe card so they could go to the toilet, I trusted them to wash their hands) – at precisely the right moment to plan a surprise cake, calamity unfolded. Due to my fantastic aural capabilities, I knew that a cake would be baked and presented to me as a surprise at an afternoon coffee break the next day. In hindsight, this was the exact moment to admit what I had overheard and put the buffers on it, although I would never be so presumptuous to lose my modesty and do so.
‘If you’re thinking of baking me a cake, don’t.’
A potential response which would have crushed my spirit; ‘Why would we make a cake for you?’
I was later asked to carry out a favour. It was a job that I couldn’t refuse; it was a small token which would go a little way to redeeming all the chores these people had done for me.
‘Can you take us to this funeral tomorrow?’
‘No, it’s my birthday and they might be making me a cake.’
As the birthday progressed, I announced that I’d be going home soon to drive my devotees to a funeral. I was then completely shocked to be given a mouthful of abuse and in light of the situation, offended. I was then faced with some unusual questions about what I’d be doing tomorrow, so I suspected then that they might postpone the cake presentation.
I almost made a faux-pas right at the crematorium, as the cortege was just arriving, so too did I and I almost ended up joining the procession at the front. It was an unavoidable error, we weren’t to know that the cortege was round the corner that we’d have to go round to get to the car park, although people who arrived earlier knew and parked further away. Thankfully, the undertaker paused for a moment to allow us to pass inconspicuously without breaching protocol. I waited in the car park, watching foxes and reading a book whilst the service took place.
As for the cake situation, I had mixed feelings, I was offended but also appreciative of their efforts in organising some kind of surprise. The next day I would see what unfolded. As the day wore on, I lost focus in the heat and decided I would be better off working elsewhere, or I’d take the afternoon out by the lake and resume working in the evening which is what I did. Shamefully, by mid-afternoon, I forgot about the plan to retry unveiling the cake. As I was leaving town, the phone rang, I didn’t answer as I was driving and later an SMS with the picture of the cake arrived with more abuse, but this time, mercifully, more light-hearted.
This was a confusing episode and I don’t know what I learned, perhaps that people care and sometimes, in showing it, fuss is a necessary by-product. The outrage at my involuntary thwarting of the goodwill gesture by performance of a good deed for someone else is perhaps the most troublesome part. Perhaps this episode only proved that I am erratic in thought.
As my date of birth became known - inadvertently, through my willingness to do a good deed (I loaned someone my swipe card so they could go to the toilet, I trusted them to wash their hands) – at precisely the right moment to plan a surprise cake, calamity unfolded. Due to my fantastic aural capabilities, I knew that a cake would be baked and presented to me as a surprise at an afternoon coffee break the next day. In hindsight, this was the exact moment to admit what I had overheard and put the buffers on it, although I would never be so presumptuous to lose my modesty and do so.
‘If you’re thinking of baking me a cake, don’t.’
A potential response which would have crushed my spirit; ‘Why would we make a cake for you?’
I was later asked to carry out a favour. It was a job that I couldn’t refuse; it was a small token which would go a little way to redeeming all the chores these people had done for me.
‘Can you take us to this funeral tomorrow?’
‘No, it’s my birthday and they might be making me a cake.’
As the birthday progressed, I announced that I’d be going home soon to drive my devotees to a funeral. I was then completely shocked to be given a mouthful of abuse and in light of the situation, offended. I was then faced with some unusual questions about what I’d be doing tomorrow, so I suspected then that they might postpone the cake presentation.
I almost made a faux-pas right at the crematorium, as the cortege was just arriving, so too did I and I almost ended up joining the procession at the front. It was an unavoidable error, we weren’t to know that the cortege was round the corner that we’d have to go round to get to the car park, although people who arrived earlier knew and parked further away. Thankfully, the undertaker paused for a moment to allow us to pass inconspicuously without breaching protocol. I waited in the car park, watching foxes and reading a book whilst the service took place.
As for the cake situation, I had mixed feelings, I was offended but also appreciative of their efforts in organising some kind of surprise. The next day I would see what unfolded. As the day wore on, I lost focus in the heat and decided I would be better off working elsewhere, or I’d take the afternoon out by the lake and resume working in the evening which is what I did. Shamefully, by mid-afternoon, I forgot about the plan to retry unveiling the cake. As I was leaving town, the phone rang, I didn’t answer as I was driving and later an SMS with the picture of the cake arrived with more abuse, but this time, mercifully, more light-hearted.
This was a confusing episode and I don’t know what I learned, perhaps that people care and sometimes, in showing it, fuss is a necessary by-product. The outrage at my involuntary thwarting of the goodwill gesture by performance of a good deed for someone else is perhaps the most troublesome part. Perhaps this episode only proved that I am erratic in thought.
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