Tuesday, July 19, 2016

Mildred

Mildred is a Jehovah's Witness who has visited my office once every month like clockwork.
I don't remember how long ago she started coming in, but by the third month, we had a first-name relationship.
We have a short, pleasant conversation, she hands me her literature, I thank her, and she leaves.

After each visit, at least one co-worker tells me that I am way too nice.
I think it is much easier to smile and nod politely for a few moments than it would be to discuss religion or even ask her to stop coming in.

So, Mildred has continued to visit every month.
Because I'm nice to her.

After her last visit, several co-workers asked me if I told Mildred that our office was moving.
The answer is no.
I wanted to tell Mildred, as a courtesy, that we'd be gone by the time she came around again, but I thought it best not to lead her to believe that future visits would be welcome at the new location.

This makes me both sad and weirdly amused.
Mildred came in on Thursday; we moved on Friday.
By the time she comes in next month, a new tenant will be occupying our old office space.  There will be a new business name on the door, new carpeting, painted walls, and a new person sitting at the front desk.
When Mildred walks in, she'll probably at first be delighted to see the fresh, clean new look of the office, but she'll wonder where Roses is.
And when she asks, they'll tell her, "Roses who?  There's no Roses that works here."

I imagine it'll be a freakishly surreal experience.
Like an elaborate prank.

I almost wish I could be there.
But that would defeat the effect.


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