My good deed for the day was royally snubbed!
This tale of woe occurred yesterday and has found its way onto my MySpace page. Hope it makes you guys chuckle. Man, I'm funny when I try to be.
Funny, when I was wee I was taught that it was nice to do nice things. Apparently not. Whilst living in this alien land in which I find myself I have become accustomed to not having my nearest and dearest to hand. It is not a pleasantry (or, at times, an unpleasantry) but reality. I have found a coping mechanism in making new friends and creating new past-times. I still potter (not potterY, you understand, just potter - those of you who know me best will understand), I still make cards (and forget to post them - sorry), I still watch soaps (Monday nights are especially enjoyable on this front) and do many other things that make me me.
However, in an effort to branch out I decided to embrace community spirit and in so doing decided upon the Old People's Home next door as the outlet for this venture. I had an idea. A good idea, I thought. My plan was this: to go next door and be all bright and cheery, offer to play Piano some night for the oldies to sing along to carols or whatever and do my bit for society.
So, today, after work, laiden down with my satchel full of marking and, bizarrely, a toilet roll (I have the cold not the skits), I parked my car and wandered next door. I entered the strange grand Victorian building (more Queen Vic than Victorian period) with the obligatory 'Eau de Old People's home' ammonia smelling 'pot pourri' and made my way up to the most important looking of the two ladies I saw before me - the one in the dark blue tunic rather than the lilac one.
I said my piece: 'I'm a Music teacher at the College and I live next door. I'd like to volunteer to come in some evening and play Piano and sing some Carols with the residents (thought 'oldies' may not be deemed PC here) in the run up to Christmas'. Well! You'd have thought I'd just mentioned the word euthanasia! The grilling I got! Shocking!
First the 'lady' insisted that I say my piece again, so off I went 'I'm at Music teacher, blah blah blah', then she wanted to know if I was going to bring in a group (I expect she meant school kids rather than a full on group like Muse who, incidentally, are from round here) and when I said no she looked even more confused - maybe even a little disappointed.
She went on to ask if it would be a voluntary. Now, here we have a problem. I heard the word voluntary and thought in musical terms as in like a recital or solo or something. So, I said, 'well, either that or the residents could sing along. Just whatever you want, really'. Rude lady replied with 'no (*patronising stare*)
'Would you want paid?'. I firmly said 'no, no, not at all' to which rude lady (almost laughing) said 'Well, why do you want to do it, then'. This, I thought would have been the easy bit. Eh, no!
So, my tale began. 'My Granny used to like to hear me play so I thought some of the residents might like that sort of thing too'. (Straightforward enough; the use of the letter D in the word useD clearly and emphatically implying past-tense.) So what does Rude Lady say? 'Where's your Granny now, then?' My reply, 'Heaven'! (so put that in your pipe and smoke it, you old witch) Rude Lady, realising her faux pas, tried to backpedal somewhat with a decidedly insincere smile (which, to be fair, could easily have been wind - maybe she could have used my loo roll, who knows? At least I was prepared!).
I continued my tale of woe by saying that I'd moved to the area and didn't have any family nearby so I thought I'd volunteer to play some evening. (Though clearly by the time I had to explain for the third time what I wanted I was beginning to think I couldn't be bothered even if she did agree).
Rude Lady, clearly not wanting to make a good impression, said 'aren't you going home for Christmas?'. I said 'yes, on the 19th Dec' so thicko Rude Lady (really trying my patience by this point) said 'but you just said you don't have any family round here'. What part of I HAVE A NORN IRISH ACCENT didn't she get?! Ever-persistently politely I replied, 'yes, I'm going home to Belfast on the 19th Dec'. So what does Rude Lady say? 'Well, it'll have to be before the 19th then!' No s**t sherlock! The woman's a genius.
The conversation proceeded in this fashion for another few minutes - which I'll not bore you with - but after all that she wasn't even the manager or the matron or anything!! She had to take a phone number (obviously too lazy to walk next door) and said that someone will be in touch. I doubt very much that they will be - or that I'll agree to anything even if they do ring. Stupid woman. Imagine her coming to tell you bad news if that's what she's like in receiving an offer of a good deed for the day.
My faith in human nature is somewhat waning. Your mission, having read this, is to restore it - good and proper, like. In case I don't see ya - Good afternoon, good evening and good night!
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