What Happened TodayPosted: July 21, 2011
Today I cried at work.
I hate it when people cry at work. It makes me very angry. I firmly believe in the Kelly Cutrone patented “if you have to cry, go outside” style of management. There is no crying in the workplace. There is no crying in baseball!
Sorry, I’ve been watching to watch A League of Their Own for a while now. Lines just keep popping out of my mouth.
“This is our daughter Dottie, and this is our other daughter, Dottie’s sister”.
Back to my situation at work today. I am giving myself a pass on crying at work today because it all happened as a result of me being an emotional mushball, and the fact that it had absolutely nothing to do with work. No bosses yelling, no employee drama, just a regular old tourist finding ways to make me cry. But in the nicest of possible ways!
I saw an older, somewhat gruff looking man and woman, both wearing Winnipeg Fire Department shirts, walk in while I finished with a group of German tourists. As soon as I saw the shirt I knew I had to ask.
“Which one of you worked for the Winnipeg Fire Department?”
The older gentleman replied that he had. I told him the my grandpa had been the fire chief there. He asked for his name, and when I gave it, his face broke into a grin.
“I worked with your grandpa for years!”
I laughed and said something about a small world. We chatted for a minute about how I came to be living on the coast, so very far from Winnipeg. I asked if he had been to my grandpa’s funeral in 2007.
“Yes, I sure was. One thing about your grandpa, he was a damned good cook.”
And that was it. Big old tears started up in my eyes, so I laughed again and asked what his favorite recipes were.
I was trying so hard to keep it all in that I forgot to ask the man’s name. He and his wife both shook my hand and told me what a nice man my grandpa was before taking their park pass and heading out the door.
I held it together for a little while, then excused myself to the back room to cry my big old tears like a big old baby. Then I wiped my grody, tear-stained face clean and went back to work.
I’m still a bit surprised at the amount of luck that went into creating that moment. That man could have bypassed the info center and gone straight into town. He could have talked to anyone else at the desk. I could have decided not to mention the writing on his shirt. So many things could have happened to prevent that conversation, but yet there I was, crying in the back room because some nice man knew how good of a cook my grandpa was.
Damn it tourists, I love you.