Something you might not know about me is that I have an amazingly high number of pet peeves. It’s a vast arsenal, a great chasm, and I don’t usually like to open it.
I try to keep them to myself, just in case I am telling someone about something that peeves me, and in the middle of it realize that they’re the one who does it. That kind of stuff happens to me all the time. Seriously, I’m that dense.
But, if you are like me, and have a great number of pet peeves, I would be happy to sit down and share with you, and listen to you spout yours. It’s surprisingly refreshing.
I feel comfortable sharing this one on my blog, though, so lucky you.
I work in my father in law’s law office, as the receptionist. He has two legal assistants; both named Pam.
So here’s my peeve of the day:
The phone rings, and in my happiest, most inviting and professional voice, I say:
Good Morning, Law Office. How can I help you?
And the reply:
Just one word, no inflection. So at this point, I don’t know who you are, where you’re from, who you’re calling for, or what you’re calling about. Did you just assume that MY name is Pam too? Are you asking for Pam?
And I’m left feeling awkward, not knowing what to say, so I usually stutter something like “Nnnnno, This is Kelsey.” And then there is a little pause, and all my happy professionalism that I work so hard to achieve is thrown out the window.
Peeves. I hate them, but they are so fun to vent about.
Next time: people who talk way louder than a situation calls for.
(I really am a nice person who loves others… Don’t hate me.)