A Bewildering Phone Call from the Old Person

. . . wherein adverbs are overused and explanations are awaited.

Phone, loudly: *Ring*

Me, responsively: Hello?

Old Person, agitatedly: I'm sorry to bother you, Cindy, but we've got a problem. They've changed the numbers, and they won't tell us the new ones, and I don't know how to get them, so do you think we should call Aging Services about it?

Me, befuddledly: What?

Old Person, frantically: The numbers! They changed them! And they won't give me the new ones, and I don't know what to do. They said they'll only give them to the firemen and emergency services and paid help, and the access cards cost $8, and I told them that you're an unpaid volunteer, but they still wouldn't give them to me. And they told the doctor's office not to give the numbers to me either. Can you believe it? It don't seem right that they'd do something like that. I just don't know what to do. What do you think we should do?

Me, confusedly: I have not the pleasure of understanding you. Of what are you talking?

Old Person, deliberately: The numbers. At the gate. Where you come in. It's locked on Saturdays. They won't give me the new numbers, and they said an access card would cost $8.

Me, comprehendingly: Gotcha. You're saying that they changed the entry code at the gate to your complex.

Old Person, anxiously: Yes, and they won't give me the new ones. You should call my manager and ask for them and explain that you're an unpaid volunteer. And call me back tomorrow after you've talked to her.

Me, reluctantly: Okay.

Old Person, annoyedly: I don't see how they can do that. This is HUD housing, and don't they have to respect the rights of the people? How can they take away our rights like this? You're sort of like a paralegal or something, so what do you think?

Me, patiently: I'm not licensed to practice law; even if I were licensed I wouldn't be licensed in Utah; and even if I were licensed in Utah, I still wouldn't know anything about housing law.

Old Person, resignedly: Okay, well just call me back tomorrow after you talk to my manager.

Me, conclusively: All right. Goodbye.

compliments from the old person

Yesterday when the old person and I were at Walmart, looking for the 100th time at the bin of cheap DVDs, I saw two girls in my ward. Both of these girls, I must add, are older than I am. However, the old person was shocked when I told her that they lived in my apartment complex. "They do! But you look so much older than them." Pause. "Not that you look old. I think that it's because they're so tiny." Pause. "Not that you look fat. It's just that you're, um, tall, and um, womanly."

Nice recovery there, old person.

strange things taught in church

Relief Society Teacher: "Are any of you mad at God for making us forgive everyone? Like, he made it a commandment, so we have to do it. Does anyone find that really frustrating? Anyone? None of you are annoyed with God for requiring us to forgive others? Well, okay then. Let's move on with the lesson."



Sunday School Teacher: "We all think of Jesus being perfect and all, but let's read Mark 8:22-25. So, the first time Jesus tried to cure the man's blindness, the man couldn't see correctly, and Jesus had to do it again to get it right. That makes me feel better, because it shows that even Jesus didn't get everything right the first time."


Me: Okay then. Maybe I'll just read the scriptures to myself instead of listening.