I Love My Job

Ok, that's a lie. I don't love it. But sometimes, I have moments here that make it worth coming to work every day. (and others, I wish I never had to come back!!!)

Anyway, today I come back from lunch, and see one of our more vocal tenants in the parking lot, decked out with some serious rouge and very very red lips... a bright colorful patchwork sweater, and a GIGANTIC amber pendant, that kind of reminded me of the little knob at the top of John Hammond's cane in Jurassic Park... you know, the one with the little mosquito frozen inside?

Anyway... this woman (whose name is not coming to me right now... ) is slowly meandering to down the hill to her car... but when she gets to the spot where she is certain her car was, she begins yelling, "SOMEONE STOLE MY CAR? WHO THE HELL STOLE MY CAR?!" I'm standing there, sorta dumbfounded... who would steal a car from the parking lot of a senior low-income apartment building? She walks over to a champagne colored Ford Taurus which has been backed into a spot, and goes, "No, that isn't my car. It was right there. But I'm CERTAIN I parked there! Someone stole my car!"

So I say to her, "Well, what kind of car do you drive?" thinking maybe I can help locate the missing vehicle... she kind of stumbles and says, "I drive a... uhh... a...." but never quite answers me. So I'm still unable to assist. Yet I remain by her side, acting like I'm on the hunt for the stolen car.

Then another resident whose name is Tom comes around the corner, walking his little dog Alex. And this woman yells to Tom, "Tom! Someone stole my goddamned car! I think I'm going to pass out! Come with me while I try to find it! I'm SURE I parked it down there, but MAYBE it's up top!"

uhhhh....

Meanwhile I guess I should add that there are two parts to our parking lot, split by the driveway that encircles our flagpole and leads up to the door. So this woman and Tom and myself begin walking up the little hill to the "upper" parking lot... the whole time, she is whimpering and complaining about how she cannot believe people are so dishonest, and, why would they pick hers, of all cars?! Sure enough, she walks 10 steps beyond the edge of the lot and spots her car and gives a hollar of relief. I have to turn and practically sprint for the front door because I am desperately supressing a giggle...

I realize that many of the people who live here at Trinity House are elderly, many with physical and mental disabilities. It's not uncommon for someone to be diagnosed with the onset of demensia, or Alzheimers, but this woman seems, for the most part, all together with it. However, it raises the question... if this lady cannot remember where she parked her car in a relatively small parking lot (probably room for 40 cars total here) then should she really be operating a motor vehicle and being allowed out on the roads? I mean, I've forgotten where I parked my car at the King of Prussia mall at Christmastime when there are ten zillion other cars there... but usually I end up in the right area, just maybe not the right row. And a simple click of my fob will set my taillights a'blinkin and I find my ride.

But today was just a very amusing situation, especially beacuse I was more than certain that her car had not been stolen, but was indeed parked elsewhere in the lot... but how do you tell a senior that, who is so certain they know what they're talking about? Answer: you don't. You just humor them, offer to help, and turn and laugh once you're out of their earshot. Which, as awful as this sounds, here at Trinity House, is only a few steps in most cases. ;-)