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Cheryl Hughes: Say What?

My Career As A Woman

I have found that living in an era of so much information has raised my expectation for complete information in my day-to-day life to unrealistic levels.  I find that I’m not as quick on my feet as I used to be.  It’s as if I’m waiting for more information before I act or react.  That predicament can be confusing and frustrating, but every now and then, it can be downright hilarious.

My friend, Greg, is a great guy, but I’ve learned if he gives me directions to a place, I’d be advised to get a consult.  He tends to leave out information.  His directions to a house might go something like this:  “You go out Dunn Store Road about two miles (actually, it will be three) then you meet yourself comin this way (That’s a sharp turn to the left), and then you meet yourself goin that way (A sharp turn to the right), then you go up a hill (It’s up and down two hills before you get to the specified hill), and their house is the one with the big wood pile beside it (It’s the second house with the big wood pile beside it).  Because I’ve had several years to learn Greg-speak, I can usually fill in the blanks enough to get to where he sends me, unless he miscounts the red lights, of course, then I’m on my own.

When Greg, Renee, Garey and I ran Greggarey’s Market in Morgantown, we had an employee, Lori, whom we all loved.  Lori was one of those people who was to the point.  She didn’t waste a lot of time on what she considered unnecessary information.  One day she was rummaging around the store for empty boxes.  After we had helped her gather several, Renee asked why she needed so many boxes. 

“Somebody gave me a cow,” she explained, “And I’ve got to go and pick it up this afternoon.”

I never got past the “gave me a cow,” so I said, “They just gave it to you?”

To which Renee responded, “If she’s got to go and pick it up in boxes, it’s understandable why they gave it to her.”

Turns out, Lori’s friends had some beef processed, and Lori needed boxes in which to carry the packages of meat.

When it comes to leaving out information, I’m just as guilty as the next person.  Sometimes, it’s because I’ve already explained something fifteen times along the way, and by the time I get to the sixteenth person, I’m giving the bare bones of the story.

One afternoon when I was at work at Hastings in Galveston, my watch fell from my wrist.  The band was made from leather, and the hole that held the clasp had worn in-two.  I was in the stock room so I went through the tool box in search of a hammer and a nail.  I was going to create another hole in the band in which to put the clasp, thus salvaging the watch.  I found the hammer, but not the nail.  A fellow employee said he had seen some at the front of the store in the area of register two, so I took my watch and the hammer and set out in search of a nail.

Hastings was a huge store, and I was stopped several times on my journey to the front by other employees who wondered what I was going to do with a hammer and a watch.  By the time I reached Jimmy at register two, I was explained out.  I laid the watch and the hammer on his counter and said, “I need a nail, Jimmy, so I can fix my watch.”

Jimmy had come to our store via one of those recovery programs that helps people get back on their feet.  He was a wonderful guy, but the substance abuse had slowed his perception and reaction times a bit.  Jimmy looked at the watch then looked at the hammer, blinked twice, and said, “Ms. Cheryl, I’m not trying to tell you what to do, but I don’t think you can fix it like that.  Let me take a look at it.”

Before I could explain, he had the back off of the watch and was tinkering around with the movable parts.  I told him I’d check back with him later then went to the book department to do some straightening.  I picked up an errant string that had come loose from a bookmark and put it into my pocket.  I alphabetized the fiction through John Grisham then clocked out for lunch.

On my way out, I stopped by Jimmy’s register.  My watch was back together, and he had cleaned it, as well.  I thanked him, and took it with me to my car where I put the band back together with the piece of string from my pocket, as I reflected on the fact that even the simplest tasks need to include all of the information.

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