I was running errands on my day off when I went into a
franchise of a national brand to research (and possibly make) a major purchase.
My post-workout self, in gym clothes and no makeup, made the greeting of the
guy behind the front desk of “Hey, Greg, a pretty lady here to see you” both
ironic and, of course, mildly insulting. Perhaps he always greets the men that
come in with, “Hey, Greg, a cute gentleman here to see you.”
As I sat waiting for my salesman to get something from the
back, the guy at the front desk yelled to the other (all male) salesforce,
“Hey, listen to this. Someone’s calling me from Texas.” He put the call on
speakerphone and began speaking quite loudly to this spam phone caller.
I dislike junk phone calls as much as anyone, and so, since
I was in direct line of sight and easy hearing range, I listened with everyone
else in the room to see what would happen next. What happened was that the guy
behind the front desk described in graphic, violent, sexual detail, using
vulgar language, precisely what he hoped would happen to the caller. And to the
caller’s hypothetical 9-year-old daughter. The guy at the front desk was loud,
and everyone else in the room laughed along long after the call ended. My
middle-aged preacher self was clearly visible to everyone, but no one looked my
direction as they drifted away.
I was sickened by what I had just heard. I considered
walking out at that moment, but there were reasons for me to pursue this
purchase from this place. My salesman came back, not having heard any of this
exchange. I filled him in on what had been said, and he assured me that it was
a family-owned business. It didn’t take long for me to realize that I could not
support this business with my purchasing dollars, no matter how inconvenient or
costly it might be for me to go elsewhere. On my way out, I sought out the
person whose name was on the top of building and had to be content with leaving
a message.
I heard first from the man who had spoken so vulgarly. He
said that he was calling me because my salesman told that I wanted an apology.
In his attempt at an apology, he said, “That isn’t who I am.”
I heard next from the manager. “We’re a family-owned
business. That isn’t who we are.”
Actually, yes. Yes it is who you are.
Who you are is how you act when it’s just “the guys” or “the
girls.” Who you are is how you act when the only customer around is one middle-aged
woman in sweats. As a business, who you are is how all of your salespeople act
when they’re talking together, with or without customers around. That company’s
problem is much bigger than one lost sale. Their greater problem is having a
company culture that thinks that is okay to have that type of phone call loudly
in the middle of the office with everyone joining in and laughing. Seriously, could
you imagine that happening in your own workplace?
I’ve been thinking about what happened last Friday a lot. I
wish I could wash his words out of my ears, but I can’t. I wish it wouldn’t be
harder now to pursue my purchase, but it will be. I wish I didn’t have to spend
time and energy considering how high up the corporate food chain I should share
my experience, since another “hey, pretty lady” came in while I was leaving.
It’s also made me think about my own faith life. I realize
how many times I act in ways that may not represent who I like to think that I
am. No, you won’t find me recommending anatomically impossible sex acts to
random spam callers in a public (or private) place. But I’ve certainly got my
own stuff. I can become impatient. I’m quick to judge others. My
feelings can get hurt way too easily. There are times when I think back on a
certain time and think, “That’s not who I am.” But it is. If it wasn’t, I
wouldn’t have acted that way.
Who am I? When it comes down to it, I’m just one more flawed
and frail human whose meaning and hope come from Someone far beyond herself.
Some days, I represent Jesus really well, and other days I’m sure I don’t. I’m
not yet ready to admit that I’ve got more in common with that guy at the front
desk than not (certainly, I at least have better judgment than he does), but
the truth of it is that none of us gets through this life on our own merits. It
always and only is about God’s grace and love for us as the bunch of sinners
that we are.
Yep, one more sinner redeemed by God’s love. That’s who I am.
