Being Friendly Never Hurt

Several years ago, Meg told me that "I speak Blue Collar."  Although that sounded funny, I knew exactly what she meant.  I had grown up and taught in a community with all different socio-economic backgrounds.  I had become accustomed to talking to all types of people.  As our neighborhood changed over the years, I remained friendly to those who moved in no matter what lifestyle they led.  It wasn't a conscience choice; I had just learned long ago that being friendly never hurt.  

I know that not everyone in my community felt the same way, but once we moved to Florida, I was amazed at how friendly everyone was in Ocala.  People that I didn't know would stop me at the store just to say that they liked what I was wearing, and everyone in our neighborhood waved and smiled when we walked by their homes.  Over the past two years, every person that we had come to our home to work had been nice and helpful.

That friendly feeling went away this morning.  I had hired a handyman to repair the lights in our kitchen.  I had read a lot of reviews on Google before I called him and was positive that he would be the perfect fit for the projects that we needed to have completed.  I thought that choosing him to do our lights first would be a great way to get to know him and to schedule him for future work.  After five minutes of dealing with him, I realized that I was wrong.  He was the opposite of friendly and spent most of his time talking down to me.  I felt humiliated after he left our home.  Meg reminded me that at least I got my lights fixed and that I would never have to deal with him again.  

Even with Meg's advice, it took me awhile to feel better.  Thankfully, the hairdresser that I tried at Great Clips later in the day made up for his poor behaviors.  I hadn't had my hair cut by anyone but Amanda for at least ten years.  I knew that I wouldn't be back in Syracuse until Thanksgiving and couldn't wait that long.  The hairdresser was very understanding, gave me a great haircut and recommended several ways to improve the health of my hair.  Even the woman who waxed my eyebrows was friendlier than the handyman and English was not her first language.  In the end, I did feel better and decided to just remain friendly even if it was not reciprocated.  It couldn't hurt.