Thursday, December 10, 2015

When I cried two times in one day

I hadn't planned to start my every-other-week ECP schedule yesterday, but it happened that way when the driver from Westfield Transport failed to show up. Worse still, when I called to find out why the driver was late, the owner lied to me and said he would be there in 10 minutes, and when 15 minutes passed and the driver called me, he told me a sob story about how the owner had overbooked him and he was in Springfield needing to get gas and furthermore if he took me there was no way he would be able to bring me back at 6:45 p.m. because he would be in another part of the state.

I called the Kraft Family Blood Donor Center to cancel and called MART, the place that arranges these rides, to complain. They were totally out of line: The driver or owner was supposed to give MART at least 15 minutes notice if they were unable to make a pick up. I haven't complained about this in a while because my Turkish friend and his fleet, Sonic Velocity, had been doing a great job. I asked if I could get him back again, but you can't request a driver due to the bidding system that I don't quite get. I have his number and I think I will call him to see what he can do.

Now, it just so happens that I am on a maintenance procedure and it was OK for me to skip. Although I was frustrated and annoyed, I could handle it. But as I said before, this is a prescription transport system for people who need to get to doctors' appointments for vital treatments, and I am sorry for the really sick people who not only get stood up but also have to listen to a driver make excuses.

Tears of frustration briefly filled my eyes, but I got over it and went about my business.

Earlier in the morning, something else happened that brought tears to my eyes. I was having a great time at the round robin in Enfield when my opponent, a guy, hit a ball hard into my thigh. It stung so much that I had to stop and walk it off. We were almost done with that round. I didn't finish. I said, "There's no crying in tennis," but the teary thing lasted until I got on the court with another group.

He apologized and said he hadn't meant to do it. Of course he didn't, but guys should not hit the ball so hard when playing in this kind of event. Some of the other ladies at a lovely tea afterwards also brought this up, saying it is no fun to play with or against a guy who just hits to ace you and place winners.

Most of the men we play with know better. They can do other things, such as practice spin and placement. One of our regulars even asks us what speed we would like on his serve.

But to end on a better note, I just have to say, I love my tennis friends.

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