The tech will pick up the tower later and bring it back
tomorrow. I have business for the new phone and that will require a trip to the
cell store. Minor shopping and dusting for story group. I’m going to share an
old story about the trip to the dentist that ended up with the sheriff reading
my journal. I noticed that I still have a sore spot about that invasion of my
privacy. Walking is achy slow and I do it anyway.
I had a 9:45 dental appointment on a Wednesday morning. I
told the museum manager that I would be late for my 10 AM volunteer duty, and
that I hoped to get there by 10:30. She forgot. There I was having a new crown
fitted in perfectly oblivious that a storm of activity was going on. My phone
rang three or four times but of course it went unanswered. Then I was finished
and walked to the museum. I was met by Rick who said, Where have you been? At
the dentist. We were so worried that something was wrong that Karen is out
looking for you. A deputy sheriff came in and asked me my name. I told him. He
said scanner land was looking for me. Karen called my daughter Hollie at nine
minutes after 10 and upset her. When she arrived here, Jon and Chris were sitting
on the couch as Karen had knocked on their door to ask for help. Then a deputy
sheriff came in the house and looked all around the house and yard, including
reading my journal that lay open on the kitchen table. Meanwhile Karen had
driven up and down streets, stopped people, gone into stores asking if anyone
had seen me. She made more stops than Paul Revere. Hollie knew that I kept a
calendar and when she looked she saw the dental appointment listed and called
the office. I had just left for the museum where I was accused of making
Karen’s life miserable by scaring her. Wait a minute, I went to the dentist,
that’s all I did. At home, Chris told me the deputy had even looked in the
closets and she saw him reading my journal to see if I had left a suicide note.
Karen told the story over and over with herself as the hero and me as the
villain. The intrusion left a bruise on my sense of privacy and took away any
kind of trust in Karen as a manager. Finally I had enough of her story telling and
let her know how it had affected my life. It took a while to get over it with
her multitude of teary apologies and obsequious behavior toward me. I tried to
see it from the point of view of the total stranger, the trained officer, and
wondered what he knew about me from coming into my home. It was months before I
opened my journal again and to this day I cannot leave it open on the kitchen
table.
No comments:
Post a Comment