1:46 a.m. | 2003-11-05 Memories. Here Today, Gone Tomorrow. Or Are They? Oh, you figure it out. I can�t remember. Anyway, I got a phone call today! At work! Imagine that! The exclamation points are sponsored by our slow season, which features an occasional call from someone outside our office. Otherwise, any information we receive, this time of year, is via the grapevine. It�s funny how gossip always travels at the speed of light, er, sound. So, a Professional Guy called me today in regards to a file we worked together on that extra job I no longer do. That�s neither here nor there though. Here�s the dirt. (CI:) Good Afternoon, MyWorkPlace. This is Cruel-Irony. (PG:) Hi! This is Professional Guy. (CI:) Hey P! Good to hear from you! What�s up? (I recognized his name instantly, and remembered that�d we had worked a very important file together.) (PG:) Well, we got this resolution on the file. It wasn�t what I was shooting for, but still, it�s decent. (CI:) That�s great! You�re right, it�s not as good as it could�ve been, but it�s still good. Better than what we had, that�s for sure. (PG:) Yeah. So, what do I do now? (CI:) Well, uh� this is what you need to do� but, um, I don�t handle these files anymore. And, uh, the person that I punted that to is gone now, so, um, there�s someone else handling it, but they�re still learning everything, and um� (PG:) Don�t worry, I understand. But, I am concerned about closing this file. (CI:) Okay. Cool. Here�s what you need to do. And, I�ll transfer you to the DifferentPerson, but, if you have any problem at all, call me. Okay? (PG:) Yeah. (CI:) Oh, I said I�d transfer you didn�t I? (PG:) Uh, yeah. (CI:) Well, that was all buffoonery. I no longer remember how to transfer you. (PG:) If you have a direct number, I�d be happy just to call it. (CI:) Sure. It�s, um, this number. No wait� it�s that number. Uh, I don�t know the number for sure, so if you don�t get to the right place, call me back. I mean, the person you need to call is just down the hall from me. I can walk down there and all. Sorry, things are a little wacky right now. (PG:) I know. I�ll try the numbers first. (CI:) Hey, who�s your ThisPerson? (PG:) I don�t know. I could find out though. (CI:) Well, you know that ours is Lucky, and I�m sure he�d want to know about all this. (PG:) Yeah, I�ve talked to Lucky on this file. (CI:) I�m just thinking that he�d want to know about this resolution and contact your ThisPerson. Sound cool? (PG:) Yeah. Or just have him call me direct. (CI:) Okay. Um, where are you again? (PG:) ThisTown. (CI:) Okay, I was close. I was thinking ThisOtherTown, but I knew that wasn�t right. You work for ThisPlace right? (PG:) Yeah. (CI:) Okay. I�ll pass the word on. And, call me if anything goes amiss. Oh, and congratulations! (PG:) Thanks� I�ve really enjoyed working with you. Had I done a bunch of drugs in my youth, the above could be a really great script for an anti-drug PSA. Well, not great exactly, but in an ironic way. But I didn�t do a bunch of drugs, so� this is part of an entry. In my diary. Such is life. There it is. Anyway, I went racing (relative term there � �limping� would be more apropos, but whatever) to Lucky�s office to tell him the news. He wasn�t there, so I turned to his closest (proximity-wise) office mate� NewGuy. (Note: NewGuy isn�t �new� anymore, but that�s the moniker I remember. See, it�s all about the memories.) Here�s that. (CI:) Hey NewGuy (NG). I know you�re not Lucky�s keeper, but do you know where he is? (NG:) No, I don�t. Wait. Yes I do. He�s at home. Sick. (CI:) So, you haven�t seen him today? (NG:) No. Wait. Yes I did. I saw him when I got to work, then he went home right after that. No, wait. I forgot. Memory slippage. Sorry. I saw him again around lunch and then he went home. I think. My memory� it�s a�slipping. (CI:) Heck, I haven�t even started my cross-examination and you�ve already changed your story so many times. If you don�t remember anything else, remember this: stay away from the witness stand. At least when it pertains to mundane office things. NewGuy is very smart and probably is an expert witness in his professional capacity. But, I was just asking where Lucky was, and I might remind you, he�s not Lucky�s keeper. Just saying. After all that excitement at work � a ton of sorting, purging and shredding (heh) � I went grocery shopping. And, you all know how much I love that. I�ve been grocery shopping for so long it�s become academic. Literally. Mentally, I go through all this complicated shopping math to figure out how much I save right before I look at the handy placard that tells me exactly how much I save. What goes around comes around. And, occasionally, it bites my butt. See, I recognize bad karma. No matter what form it takes up. Anyway, I was busy trying to find beef broth � which, ironically, was right in front of my face � when someone handed me a pamphlet. I thanked him and took it. (An aside � I�m handed all kinds of pamphlets, leaflets, business cards, etc. all the time. I�ve found it easier just to take it and move on.) He didn�t go away. Normally they do. I turned back towards him and he pointed to the pamphlet. I�m busy. I�m shopping. I get hit up for money more times than I ever got hit up for sex at 16. I get religious and political stuff shoved at me. I get� well, I get tired of it all. He gestured a lot. I looked at the pamphlet and saw �deaf� and �$2.00�. And, to my surprise, considering my dilapidated, tired-assed self, I actually SIGNED: �No, thank you.� He went away. Quickly. I signed fluently from 2-12 years old. Since then, I haven't had that opportunity so it's odd when I suddenly sign as easy as I speak. Memories can be all coy like that. And, I�m an equal opportunity nay-sayer. I do give. Trust me on that one. I tend to give too much actually. But, I can�t give to everybody. Yeah, it�s tough to find a job when you�re deaf. Hell, right now, it�s tough to find a job. But, I�ll say that Mr. Deaf Guy should be happy that he got me instead of MyDad. MyDad spent a fair amount of his life educating people who can�t see or hear, and it mattered very much to him. However, when we were approached with the same thing 15 years ago, he lit into the person. I have to admit that it�s odd when you see someone rant at a deaf person, in sign language, about how they should just �get a job�. Especially when you can �read� said signs but the solicitor can�t. Or can. That�s a kind of in-your-face-whoa moment you�re not likely to forget. your thoughts? seed flower