Old Ladies and Why They Are Annoying

I feel the need to point out to Jodie Stokes that I have a serious writing streak going this week, and it is all because of her. Of course, she may find none of my posts entertaining in the slightest, but that doesn't take away from the fact that this is the fourth blog that I am writing in 3 days. Go me!

So, what is today's topic then? Well, I was thinking along the lines of old ladies. Most specifically how I love them despite their annoying tendencies. Even more specifically, those living in Cross Street.

This morning, I was sitting at work. Doing, well, work of course. What else would I be doing at work? Play games you suggest? Pfft... clearly you don't know me at all. Or know me all too well ;). Anyway, there I was, working, when a phonecall comes in. Usually there is a scurry for the phones, a race to get there first so that the  call can count towards our call count at the end of the week, winning us a box of chocolates/cookies depending on what's on offer. Unfortunately, this one didn't get through to my line, and Gary answered it, only to pass it through to me. Leaving me one count short for this week. Thanks Gary!!

Anyway, I digress. On the other end of the line was Marion. Marion was one of my neighbours in Cross Street, and is also a client of my company's, so of course she always tends to contact me at work instead of calling me on my cell. No matter. I answered and we chatted for a few minutes before she asked me if I could do her a favour. Could I come over to take a picture of the scarecrow that she had built with friends whose department was imminent. How much would I charge? Knowing that this would be a 5 minute job and not being too concerned about charging for a quick shoot for an old friend, I told her that I would do it for free and would shoot down there during my lunch hour.

Lunch time came, and off I went to the familiar courtyard that was essentially my garden for two years. I knew that Marion would be there, but I also suspected that some of my other old neighbours might be hanging around, and I wasn't disappointed. Hillary was standing by the watch the quick shoot as well and have a chat while I worked my magic. This is where the slightly annoying bit comes in, because while younger people may realise that you have a job to get back to and things that need to be done and are in a slight rush to get going, old ladies tend to forget this fact in lieu of catching up. And so we chatted about me and my job and my house and my boyfriend and my cat and my parents and my car and Michael, one of my former housemates. Michael, of course, was one of the subjects of discussion that they were most interested in. While I was friendly with the ladies next door when I stayed in Cross Street, Michael was their saviour, constantly offering to cook, garden and offer company, and the lack of Michael in their lives seems to have had an adverse effect. They miss him terribly and wanted to know all about everything that is happening in his life. As he is currently living with my parents, I was the go-to-girl for knowledge, and unfortunately did not have much of it to give, since I myself have not heard from Michael in a long while. Michael, if you are reading this, you need to tell people that you are alive!

Once I had managed to get a few shots, I was ready to head off when Marion stopped me in my tracks. "Can you help me with something else?" Sure, I thought. As long as it's quick. See, another one of the ladies on Cross Street, Rosemary, who I do not know quite as well as she was not one of the neighbours in my courtyard, recently inherited a laptop. She came into the office about a month ago and one of my colleagues, Andrew, helped her set up a Gmail account to receive emails and installed Firefox on her machine. He made it really easy for her, adding a link to Gmail at the top of her browser and showing her that all she needed to do was click it and she would get her emails. Apparently this was too much for Rosemary, and she couldn't handle the complication, so had decided to give up on this email idea altogether. Marion didn't want this to happen, so she passed Rosemary's machine on to me and asked me to do something about it. Something. Anything. She didn't specify what aside from suggesting perhaps adding another email address to her account, a solution that was in fact no solution at all. What really needed to be done was to setup Microsoft Outlook on Rosemary's machine and have it pop up as soon as she opens her computer. That would be ideal. Of course, Microsoft Outlook is a lot harder to use than Gmail, but at least Marion knows how to use it, so we will have to see what happens.

And so, I have now setup a laptop with Microsoft Outlook, a task that took a lot longer than the expected favour of a few photos. But that is possibly the most annoying thing about old ladies - it is so darned difficult to say no to them! It feels like it should be a crime!! And so, I endure endless conversation and favours that take ages in order to please these women that I call friends. And you know what, it feels a lot more rewarding because they are insanely grateful for it. As opposed to most of the clients that I help over the phone.

Perhaps I should start working at an old age home teaching the elderly how to use computers. Or take photographs. Or write. I like this idea! Any takers?