Reflection 44 of 52: Can we turn bad communications into something good?
November 03, 2014
Embarrassing as this is, I have to share my “truck” story.
I
was leaving our Chinatown digs a few weeks ago for a Friday lunch and, as per
usual, there was a delivery truck in the alley. This is commonplace in our busy
little neighbourhood. This one was delivering beer to the pub next door.
Normally I take another route when I see a tight squeeze but this time I
thought my little Mini could make it through. As I approached the small alleyway,
I noticed some broken furniture on the ground. Not wanting to get a nail in my
tire, I moved slightly closer to the truck. Fatal mistake for someone with no
depth perception.
I
scraped the side of the nice white truck. The driver was standing at the back
stacking cases of beer and looked over in astonishment and said something like "Whoa!". Something snapped in me. I have no excuse for what happened next. I was
not in a rush and had been having a good day – it was Friday, after all!
I
got angry, really angry. It was totally my fault but I was pissed. I backed up
cursing and put my window down. The driver was taking down my license plate. I
expect he thought I was going to bolt. That set me off even more. I got out of
my car and said, Really! You are taking down my plate number and you were the
one blocking the road. He calmly stated this was a loading zone. I went even
nuttier. Stomping around in my high heels I started snapping pictures of the truck
and the furniture growling about all the trucks I have ever come across in the
alley. I barked out my name and phone number to the driver and took down his
name and phone number, all the while being a total idiot.
The
driver explained this was a new truck and he had to report it to his boss, all
the while being cool as a cucumber.
After
the info exchange, I zoomed off in the opposite direction grumbling away.
As
I drove, I start to calm down and realize what a dolt I had been. I could not
understand what possessed me to lose it like that. Needless to say it bothered
me all that day, and all weekend. I stewed about it and decided the best road
to redemption would be a letter to the driver’s boss. I wrote it first thing
Monday morning with a full mea culpa explaining how great “Dale”, the driver
was and that I would be willing to pay for whatever damage was caused. I had to
share my tale with my workshop coordinator so she could make the letter look
good. Even she said this was a message for me to address my cantankerous
rumblings when driving. I have tended to blasphemous ranting on the road.
That
afternoon my cell phone rang with a number I did not recognize. Usually I don’t
pick up on those calls but for some reason I did. It was Dale. OMG, I lamented.
I am such a jerk and so sorry, Dale. On and on I went trying to assure him this
was not my usual self. He said he was just calling to tell me they would not be
taking this up with ICBC. I asked him how he could be so zen when I was being
so irrational. He said, we all have bad days. Then he added that if I felt so
bad, perhaps I could make a donation to the Food Bank. Wow. I felt like I was talking
to a Ghandi descendant. I wrote a cheque right away.
Two
days later, my coordinator, Xenia and I were returning from a trip to Staples
and we had just mailed the Food Bank cheque and letter to Dale’s boss when I
spotted his truck. He was two traffic lights away. I took it as an omen to
track him down and tell him we just mailed the donation. Off we went following
him down side streets until he pulled over. Serendipitously there was enough
room behind his truck for us to pull in behind. I got out of my car just as he
was walking to the back. He looked a bit puzzled at this woman heading toward
him. I yelled “Dale!”. He stopped and
within a few seconds you could see the look of recognition cross his face – "Della!" He yelled with open arms. We had a big old hug on the street. As I was
telling him we just mailed the cheque and letter, Xenia pops out of the car
with her hand extended to shake his hand and say she just had to meet this
amazing guy. As I asked him how he was able to maintain his calm and Ghandi
like manner, he humbly said he was just a regular guy. Not likely, Dale.
As
we were saying our goodbyes, he said I should try his company’s beer. Wow. I
hope Central City Brewing knows what a special employee they have.
I
took the pictures from my phone and now have one on my calendar at work and one
on my dashboard in the car.
I
have changed my ways and don’t even think about saying nasty things during my
travels.
So
thank you Dale for helping make my bad communication into something good. Got
my receipt from the Surrey Food Bank yesterday with a lovely letter. Hardly
feels good given the circumstances.
Anyone else have a bad turned to good story to share?
Anyone else have a bad turned to good story to share?
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1 comments
What a great story, thank you so much for sharing Della. I can just picture you giving Dale a big Della style hug in the middle of the street. I have a much harder time picturing you giving him heck after hitting his truck but hey, as he says, we all have bad days. (And yes, Central City is great beer!) Erin
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