[3 of 100] Mail Room Sensei
I hate going to the mail room because it means I might bump into another resident and — GASP! — have to speak to them. The worst part is there’s no way to brace myself for socializing since the mail room has no windows. I’m forced to open the door and deal with whatever greets me — friendly old woman, flustered mom with child in tow, scowling young guy with bald head.
I used to tailor my interaction to cater to what I thought the other person wanted, but that never worked out. People usually ended up giving me a strange look or ignoring me completely. Now, they all get the same treatment. I force a smile and say, “Hellooooo!” in my best Mrs. Doubtfire voice. The person smiles back (usually), and we go our separate ways.
The other day, there was an old man sifting through his mail. I did my usual greeting then checked my box. Feeling extra sociable, I complained to the old man about misdelivered mail. He smiled and replied, “That’s right!” I said something else, and he replied again with, “That’s right!” In fact, that’s all he ever said when I spoke.
Eventually, I realized he was hard of hearing and couldn’t hear a damned thing I was saying. Not wanting to be rude (or maybe not wanting people to speak to him slowly and in a loud voice while they overemphasized their words), he’d determined “That’s right!” fits almost any situation that a reasonable person could encounter in the mail room.
There I was thinking I’d mastered idle mail room banter when in reality I knew nothing. The old man couldn’t even hear what the other person was saying, but he could communicate with them just enough to survive a brief mail room encounter. It was a good reminder that no matter how much I think I’ve got something locked down, there’s always room for improvement.
