The Art of Listening

At least ten times over the last few days, my mother and I have had variations on the following discussion:

Mom: Will you take this book/some pears/these sneakers/that dress with you?
A.: Not this time. I'm not taking anything with me. I am going straight from the airport to a meeting, and I don't want a bulky bag or extra stuff to carry.

This meeting and my plans regarding it also came up yesterday for a different reason.

Mom: Did you even plan this outfit out beforehand?
A.: No, I didn't have time. I grabbed some clothes that won't take up a lot of space in my bag because I'm going straight from the airport to a meeting.

This morning over breakfast:

Mom: Where is this meeting you're going to?
A.: In Washington.
Mom: Are you driving there?
A.: No. If I were driving, bringing more stuff wouldn't be an issue.
Mom: But you're going home first?

Pause.

A.: No. If I were going home first, bringing more stuff wouldn't be an issue.
Mom: So how are you getting to the meeting.
A.: I am taking the metro straight from the airport.

***

On the topic of not liking not being listened to, Mercicorps called a few nights ago. They always call at the worst possible times. True, I've lapsed, shifted giving to International Rescue Committee and some other organizations, but I almost considered giving to Mercicorp again, until they wasted my time with not quite a pre-recorded phone call but a paid caller who read a synopsis that she didn't really understand of the Darfur crisis and proceeded to ask for a donation.

A.: That's fine, but I don't give over the phone. I'll go online and make a donation.

Caller: Well, we can take care of that right now for you.

A.: I'll go online and make a donation.

Caller: We're set up to go ahead and take your donation right now. Would you like to do that?

A.: I just told you that I don't give over the phone.


Honestly. I mean, I don't envy this person's job, but that doesn't mean ineptitude doesn't matter. You have to listen.