Whenever the boss is away, an unusual number of clients need to be talked off of metaphorical ledges. On Monday, Client A called and burst into tears as she told me that she was in trouble. I try not to ask too many questions of the really nutty clients, because I know just what that can turn into. So, I tried to get basic information and I'd have The Boss call her and straighten her out. But, she decided that she needed to explain her problem to me. Then she proceeded to say, "I'm in trouble" over and over again. I gently advised her that she would have to be more specific if she wanted to explain her problem to me. It turned out that she went into a store and decided that she would swap her holey sneakers with a new pair and then just leave. Being the genius idea that this was, she was promptly arrested.
Also on Monday, Client B called to tell me that she and her primary care doctor needed to know the names and addressed of every doctor she's seen in the past 6 years. I hesitated, mostly because I felt that I should be the least likely of the three of us to have all of that information. She must have taken my hesitation as a sign of poor file management and said that if she had an office, she would keep a sheet of paper for each client and keep track of all their doctors. Of course, it didn't occur to her that she hadn't been bothered to know what doctors she received treatment from, or to keep a sheet of paper listing them for herself. It was, clearly, not only my shortcoming, but also my obligation to know all of her doctors and have them at my fingertips until the end of time, if necessary. Yeah, that's realistic. Client B has called at least once a day every day this week, growing more and more frantic over various issues.
This morning Client C called, without identifying himself and asked where a certain court was. He believed in was driving through the right area, but didn't see a Court Room anywhere, as if they were open air affairs, set up on street corners, maybe among the stainless steel sided food trucks. I gave him the address and told him the landmarks nearby, during which he started babbling some nonsense and then said he thought he found it and hung up. An hour and a half later, he called again, identifying himself this time. He claimed that he was at court, had been looking all over for The Boss, but couldn't find him. Then, he asked everyone he saw there if they had seen him. I put him on hold and checked his file. When I explained that he has court next Thursday, he said he didn't know, The Boss just said Thursday without identifying which one.
This, I later realized, is the same guy who called to say he was on his way to a defense examination scheduled within a half hour of his call, but he didn't have the phone number or the address. I pulled the file and gave him the address, but because I foolishly believed the certainty in his voice, I didn't bother to check the date (which, just happened to be the day before his call) when I gave him the address of the doctor's office. He went to the appointment, a day late and was sent away. He proceeded to call and yell at me because it was my fault that he missed the appointment. I sent this guy 3 letters. One, when we were notified by the scheduling company, a second when we were notified by the attorney and a third about a week prior to the scheduled appointment as a reminder. Each asked him to call and confirm that he'd be keeping the appointment, and provided him with the day of the week, date, time and the doctor's name, address and office phone number. I'm not exactly sure where it was that I dropped the ball on this one. Probably when I expected him to act like a responsible adult.
Sadly, I could continue this tale of calls and drop ins from crazy people which occurred just this week, but my fingers are getting tired of typing these stories and my head is starting to hurt just thinking about them all. I will not be sorry at 4:30 tomorrow afternoon when I run screaming from the building. That will be immediately followed by me driving like Batman, racing between cars to get home as quickly as humanly possible. Then I will be in my bathing suit flying through my house and into the pool. France E. Foshizzle (I swear I had nothing to do with his new "rap name") will make a point of mixing up some fine libations and keeping my glass full while I sip and float around the pool until well after dark, and after the pool light overheats and leaves me tipsy, clinging to a foam noodle in the dark, forgetting all about the insanity of the work week.
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