Image, Toothpaste for Dinner
One of the people who works for the company that operates my cafeteria plan spent a couple days this past week fixing somebody else's screw-up. The fact that she was able to do so took me completely by surprise.
When I hadn't heard from her by day two, I figured she had left me high and dry; I was going to have to spend most of my morning trying to get her back on the line—or, barring that—explaining the problem to someone brand new so I could start the entire process over again.
Instead, she phoned at what must have been her quitting time on Friday to let me know she had taken care of the problem.
It was one of those situations where "Thank you" is appropriate, but because the other person went to so much trouble, doesn't really seem adequate.
"Thank you so much,” I said.
"That's quite all right."
"I really appreciate all the trouble you went to in clearing this up for me."
"Really--it's fine. That's what we're here for."
"Well, okay. Thanks again!"
"Love you too."
It didn't go exactly like that, but that's always my fear during these conversations—that in the flurry of sign-offs that wind down a phone call, I will slip into auto-response mode and proclaim love for a total stranger.
And as everybody knows, once you say the L-word, there's really no going back.