Poke Poke

When life is full of stress, you take your entertainment when and where you can get it. Sometimes it's only available in taking a couple of pokes in your blog at someone who irritates you.

I was delivering freight from an electrical supply place to an electrical contractor working in Mound. The location on the order was Mound Pump House. Never heard of it.

I've been to Mound quite a few times. There's a company there which uses our services regularly. So I know, for example, that it's a lovely lakeside community due west of Minneapolis way out on the shores of Lake Minnetonka. I know several roads in and out, where to buy a Subway sandwich, the location of the SA with its usable bathrooms, the location of a bank, a printing company, a clinic and the city offices. I knew where my street was located without looking it up on a map, and approximately where the address numbers should wind up. I just didn't know exactly what I was looking for. I had a nebulous idea, with a name like that, that it might be a bar in a remodel of an old fire station. I didn't count on it.

I was on the street in the general area, hunting for street numbers to guide me to the exact location. Depending on the community, these can be either easy or impossible to find. With the snow narrowing street lanes, there was no way to park to check out each building, so the initial plan was a slow drive-by, getting clues to narrow the search. I call it "address hunting", and anybody on the phone with me at the time knows that's when I need to hang up and concentrate on the job. I can talk with you while I'm doing my "big map" driving, the part where I mentally picture my route to the area, and my autopilot takes over getting me there. All I need to concentrate on then is safety. There's brain enough left for a casual conversation, or listening to the radio, or enjoying the weather, or....

I'd already noticed the street name had changed, as the street had just swung a block north. So I needed to follow it back to before the curve and find out if my drop would be there or I needed to backtrack and pick up my street from another angle. That's when it happened.

Rinnnggg!

I pulled the cell from my pocket and glanced at the caller ID to see if this call could be ignored. These days many can't. This one was from headquarters. I better answer.

"This is Heather."

"Hi, this is _____ from the office. How are you doing?"

"I'm address hunting." Take the hint, make this quick, I'm busy here.

"I'm on the phone with _____ and they want to know how soon you'll be in Mound."

Really? Already? I'm not late yet. In fact there's still a half hour on the run. "Mound is where I am. I'm looking for the drop now."

"Oh, if you're having trouble finding it, you can call _____. He can guide you in."

Well, I wasn't having trouble. Not until you called and interrupted my process. I'm now in a moving holding pattern, taking left turn lanes to make u-turns to go up and down this street since there's no safe or convenient stopping place, staying out of other drivers' way, keeping in the location. As for the number, it's standard procedure for jobsite drops to get a first name and cell number to facilitate the hand-off. I've already looked at the order and know it's there.

"I'm not having trouble. I just can't find it and talk to you on the phone at the same time."

And even if I were, I can't call the guy, because - Hello! - you're on my phone. Duh! Now I'm trying to be polite, but I'm getting irritated, and I suspect by this time a little "tone" is creeping through. Maybe she can type and talk on the phone at the same time - it is her job, after all - but certain things do not combine well. And there seems to be a failure of imagination on her part.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I can concentrate on talking to you or on finding the address, but not both."

"Well, what do I tell the customer?"

Hmmm, that's an open ended question if there ever was one. I have several ideas, but... Professionalism wins.

"Tell him I'm at the corner of _____ and _____ and will be there in under two minutes." Now please go away and let me do the job you're so anxious for me to finish!

During this exchange I have determined that my address is where I am but a block back, so it's time for the different angle approach. Odd, because there's nothing visible back there. But I check it out: a one block dead-end street. No exits. Just piles of snow. But at the end, as I turn around, I spy the truck I'm looking for by its company logo. I just have to go back where I was originally and come back behind the building on the other street. No biggie. Now I know.

Still within my two minutes, I pull up next to the truck. It's parked right beside a little tiny - oh hey! It's a city well house. I should recognize one of those, even if it has no sign. I used to have keys to a couple of those, back in the day. I call the guy, and he comes out for his freight.

"So you're bringing me some light bulbs?"

Ah, that explains the four-foot box. He signs, grabs both boxes, and we part, each with work to do.