Cars and Cookies
written 12/15/05
I am making a quick trip to out of town tomorrow to see my one of my biggest clients. Actually they are the biggest in more than dollars spent with my company. Of approximately a dozen people working in this lab, the smallest is probably 50 lbs overweight.
I need to take them something for Christmas. After thinking of what they might like I settled on cookies. I don’t think anyone in this group ever passed up a good cookie.
The best, biggest, tastiest and highest calorie cookies to be bought are possibly the chocolate chip cookies from the Doubletree Hotel chain. While visiting clients in Dallas today, I stopped in to pick up a couple dozen at a Doubletree on the LBJ freeway.
Because of Lauren’s accident (see Groundhog Day blog entry), I am driving a rental car from the insurance company. It is a new silver nondescript Camry.
I came out of the Doubletree talking on the phone, adjusting my sunglasses, balancing a tray of cookies and fumbling with my car keys. I clicked the door opener without looking up and walked across the parking lot to the rental. I got in still talking on the phone to a coworker who was complaining about our company’s management. Sitting in the car and still with the phone to my ear, I took off my sunglasses to see some notes I had taken. I sat my binder down on the console beside the map. Map? I didn’t remember looking at any map. It then occurred to me, the interior was a darker shade of gray than I remembered. I was in the wrong car. I quickly got out, looked around to make sure I wasn’t being observed (it was embarrassing enough without anyone else seeing me) and made my way to the right car.
I will have to admit to walking up the wrong car a couple of times over the years, but never before had I gotten inside. I came pretty close to driving this one away.
I sent Dad a copy of the letter I wrote about calling the cows to Jimmy Hendrick. I haven’t heard anything from him. I suspect he either thinks it is the dumbest thing he ever heard or is pretending he didn’t read the letter. Maybe both. Maybe with good reason.
I am making a quick trip to out of town tomorrow to see my one of my biggest clients. Actually they are the biggest in more than dollars spent with my company. Of approximately a dozen people working in this lab, the smallest is probably 50 lbs overweight.
I need to take them something for Christmas. After thinking of what they might like I settled on cookies. I don’t think anyone in this group ever passed up a good cookie.
The best, biggest, tastiest and highest calorie cookies to be bought are possibly the chocolate chip cookies from the Doubletree Hotel chain. While visiting clients in Dallas today, I stopped in to pick up a couple dozen at a Doubletree on the LBJ freeway.
Because of Lauren’s accident (see Groundhog Day blog entry), I am driving a rental car from the insurance company. It is a new silver nondescript Camry.
I came out of the Doubletree talking on the phone, adjusting my sunglasses, balancing a tray of cookies and fumbling with my car keys. I clicked the door opener without looking up and walked across the parking lot to the rental. I got in still talking on the phone to a coworker who was complaining about our company’s management. Sitting in the car and still with the phone to my ear, I took off my sunglasses to see some notes I had taken. I sat my binder down on the console beside the map. Map? I didn’t remember looking at any map. It then occurred to me, the interior was a darker shade of gray than I remembered. I was in the wrong car. I quickly got out, looked around to make sure I wasn’t being observed (it was embarrassing enough without anyone else seeing me) and made my way to the right car.
I will have to admit to walking up the wrong car a couple of times over the years, but never before had I gotten inside. I came pretty close to driving this one away.
I sent Dad a copy of the letter I wrote about calling the cows to Jimmy Hendrick. I haven’t heard anything from him. I suspect he either thinks it is the dumbest thing he ever heard or is pretending he didn’t read the letter. Maybe both. Maybe with good reason.
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