By far, the vast majority of people completely understand and are extremely sympathetic to the decision of the FRHS board of directors to remain closed during the 2020 holiday season, prudently citing health and safety concerns.
These decisions have been difficult, just as the year has been difficult – for all of us.
This, too, will pass, although it does not seem so at the moment.
So we persevere.
I am amazed – humbled, in fact – by the generosity and sincere outpouring of concern shown the museum by its members and friends. Thanks to their support, the FRHS has thus far been able to weather these difficult times, and for that, I can never sufficiently express my thanks.
The FRHS has good friends, and they have come to the fore.
I have good friends.
And I am thankful.
No flattery intended, just simple fact.
But as with everything, there is always an exception.
Just last week, I heard from one such exception.
The scenario:
A ringing desk telephone – my extension.
Expecting a call, I picked it.
My “hello” was met by a female voice, unfamiliar to me; the caller did not offer up her identity, nor, at the beginning, did I ask for it.
Suffice it to say that I judged the voice as belonging to someone not quite in her dotage, but beyond her first youth … in any case, she was surely old enough to be sensible.
Or so I thought.
In short:
She had previously called the museum shop wanting to make reservations for tea and was not at all satisfied with the answer; unfortunately, the tea room is closed due to the pandemic.
She was disappointed.
Very disappointed.
Her apparent thought:
Call Michael. He will set things right.
Mistaken, that.
She explained her plight, all the while trying to persuade me to “make an exception” to allow her to hold her “annual Christmas get-together tea for 18 to 22 of her friends.
Her:
“We come every year.”
I explained that due to the global COVID-19 pandemic, health and safety concerns for staff and volunteers, and in compliance with Center for Disease Control and Commonwealth of Massachusetts recommendations, the decision was made not to open the tea room this year.
Additionally, the facility is staffed by volunteers, and our usual volunteer staff of over 100 has been temporarily reduced to five – insufficient to operate a tea room.
A reasonable enough explanation, yes?
Apparently not.
I explained – again – that we are in the midst of a global pandemic, and there are health and safety protocols to be adhered to … all of which fell on deaf ears.
She made more pleas, to no avail, and became increasingly perturbed, as manifested by the syrupy sweetness of the tone she adopted at the commencement of the conversation growing more acerbic as our chat progressed.
Me:
“No, unfortunately, we cannot accommodate you this year.”
I was nice about it – polite to the extreme, really – but one must be rational, and some things are beyond my control.
For example: A global pandemic.
In my estimation, when rationality fails, the most fitting retort is an equivalent reprisal – politely delivered, of course.
I have it on good authority – Dennis A. Binette, our Assistant Curator – that a surefire way to judge the level of my annoyance is to watch my jaw. Apparently, the more exasperated I become, the tighter it gets.
I cannot say for certain, but I should think that my mandible was fairly constricted at this point in the conversation.
When I had finally had enough – clearly, this was not headed in a positive direction – I offered what I thought was a sensible and very generous solution:
Her:
“Well, this isn’t working for me.”
“What am I going to do now?”
Me:
“I will tell you what. Give me your name and address and I will mail you 22 tea bags – flavors of your choice.”
“Do you know what Zoom is?”
Her:
“Of course I know what Zoom is.”
Me:
“Good.”
“When you receive the tea bags, keep one for yourself and mail the others to 21 of your friends, along with an invitation to join you for tea via Zoom.”
“The tea is on me.”
“Does that work for you?”
Her:
COMPLETE SILENCE … deafening silence.
Me:
“Well, I guess not.”
“Happy holidays!”
This was followed by putting the receiver back in its cradle.
Point-Counterpoint.
This is a stressful time for everyone … but, really?
And so, what, you may ask, bothered me the most about this conversation?
The fact that she never thanked me for offering to send her 22 tea bags.
Common courtesy, that.
Postscript:
There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that my anonymous caller will book reservations for tea for Christmas, 2021!
