I had a silly little project today, that somehow brought me straight to the teller line. I was testing software, and from where I sat, it was really nice to see you again.
You're my work mom, some times. You're a friend I feel, in other times. And you're just really smart, all the time. I think about your energy, the way you always accept me, even as I show up uninvited. You always ask how I'm doing in a way that I know that you truly want to know. And so I always am honest with you.
I live alone out here in Marietta, and sometimes at work, I search for the familiar. And the teller line, with you being one of my first work friends feels just like that: a familiar warm hello. We first met whilst training together, and you sat behind me and always had the coolest stories about the ghost hotel in Parkersburg and always participated in our loan application classes with witty remarks. I liked you as a person then and would later so much appreciate you as a colleague later.
It was my first month ever at the bank and Saundra sent me straight to retail. My little desk that I used to shadow everyone was right next to yours, and so we'd talk over our little wall. About your beautiful family. Your adorable daughter who's just getting braces. And your husband's car that looks soooo cool, like out of a 1940s movie. As the winter bore deeper into my bones, you made sure I bought a car brush.
"For the snow. And you have to get one with a brush, not just the ice picking part. A brush. Please."
And I got, guess what, the wrong kind of ice pick-thingie, regardless.
It would be half a year later, that you saw my car a little buried by the day snowstorm that you and Ben both scraped snow off my car when I wasn't there. And I gush about that all the time. You know it.
I'm great at customer service, but gosh, do I panic. And you would always sense when I was panicking. Without me even turning your way for help, I could almost always count on your voice calmly walking me through my panic. The customer is waiting for an answer. My ears are going to combust. My brain is melting. And the moment I hear you calmly give me next steps of how to run, what I thought at the time, a difficult transaction, I would feel like a steadier ship. The heat in my head would die down. My hands would continue to fly.
I once told my new friend in accounting that one of the best things about working the teller line is building good instincts. And you always showed me you had them.
You showed everybody you had them. When you didn't know something, you'd calmly be on the phone, asking the right person the right questions. You're a queen of finding your own answers, and I learned so much more about who I wanted to be just watching you. Your calm, steady work ethic. Your unwavering trust in your curiosity to take you where you needed to be. You were exactly the kind of person I wanted to be, if I didn't know something.
I just really admire you as a person. You truly are such a Mom and I hope that when you joke about that, you're not saying you're old, because you're such a beautiful little miss. I hope you realize what a gift it is to know a colleague who always checks in and remembers my favorite rotations. How I've returned to project management yet again or how much I love risk management. How my family is doing, and any boy advice you sometimes have on a whim.
I am a little bean. And at work, where I feel like I need to be big bean, I feel like I could just be little again next to you.
So, don't say that you're not going to grab the cold Coke bottle just because all you brought was cash and the machine only accepts card. It's just $2.65. Let me grab it for you. But so firmly, you said that I shouldn't grab it for you.
"You're not letting me grab it because you don't want to owe me?" I asked you, after we sat down in the cafeteria, trying to understand why you didn't let me. My noodles and broccoli steamed between us. You said such a firm no when I opened the fridge attempting to, that I stopped. And together, we just sat down and talked. I showed you pictures of my favorite boy band that I just saw in NYC this past weekend. I showed you pictures of my friend and roommate who hosted me in New Jersey. Her family was so wonderful. And you showed me pictures of your daughter and husband and the husky that sleeps in your bed. Your Christmas tree pictures and you showed me how you like to twirl colorful Christmas lights around the stair railing. It truly did look so cool.
And thank god you have good taste like I do. You own a Samsung too. And on the back of it is the "Y'ALL" sticker I gave you. You say it all the time with your little twang. >-<
So for all these reasons, I hoped that you wouldn't refuse my offer to grab something that you wanted, and sure, you said you didn't need it, but you wanted it. And I want you to be happy. Always. Because you always make me happy as a person here in our little bank. And you've taught me so much.
We're already here in the cafeteria. And I know you have another trust account to open, and you hate those the most. So let me. I just don't understand why you'd refuse me so strongly.
I had to sneak-buy it, while you were preoccupied. And I could tell that the moment you saw it in front of you, you smiled so big.
I hope you know that you deserve people doing nice things for you. I hope you know that you deserve all the goodness coming your way and because you are who you are, people just like me will always want to go out of our way for you. And this time, was such a little out of the way. Soooo tiny.
You're worth every trip. And you definitely deserve much much more than the $2.65 coke. So I hope next time when we meet, that you'll let me grab it for you. Whatever it is.
I just want to see you happy, because you're the best work mom ever.
:D
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Dear readers,
I wrote about E***! My work mom colleague friend.
Gosh I admire her soooo much.
I will be starting a little series about my favorite people at my workplace, Peoples Bank.
I will do my best to keep them anonymous, just in case. :)
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