Extra miles

“ ‘…thanks a lot. This service was really great!’ And then drove away with a smile on my face.”

At the conclusion of my story, the entire conference room of three hundred loan colleagues was silent. Someone sneezed about ten miles away. Then that first, lone clapper, slow and steady, gradually joined by others in a stuttering tattoo that ultimately became a roar. Like, standing ovation style, far more significant a response than one might expect after sharing their experience at the local Lube-Rite for a regular oil change.

“Great story, Michelle!” That’s Al, self elected table lead, who reignites his clapping after his brief praise. Those at my table joined in the applause , although hesitantly. As the hubbub slowly died out, I caught strange, almost pitying smiles, and heard some hardy laughs from here and there around the room. Weird.

Dinner resumed, with the background noise of several brief lectures on KPIs and some boastful presentations decrying great deeds of service and of salesmanship. Throughout, my peers at the table and most of those passing on their way to or from the bar cast sidelong glances my way, some smirking and others quickly turning their gaze away almost before it could register.

Finally, the session ended, notably with far less enthusiastic clapping than after my story. Tracy, the only in-office coworker with me on the trip, bustled me out to a waiting ride, no allowance for small talk or networking. Then she stayed silent the entire twelve minutes to our hotel.

“Am I missing something, Tracy?” My voice almost cracks with incredulity. “Have I got something in my teeth? Bath tissues stuck to my shoe?”

“You really don’t know, do you? You really shared that story as a sincere experience of great service?” Now Tracy is the incredulous one?

“Well, y-yes! It’s just as I said, Trace, the guys at Lube-Rite really took care to meet my expectations, and didn’t, not even once, try to sell me all those add-ons!” I turn to view my backside in the lobby’s mirror, just in case there is something stuck there.

“Michelle, I’m pretty sure those guys were humoring you. That’s the only real service they did for you.”

Tracy’s kindness feels sickening; the wine probably doesn’t help much, either. “I’m just going to hit the hay now. I think the dinner didn’t really agree with me.” I say as I turn down our hallway to the room we share for the conference.

“No…I think I'll check out the bar, have a nightcap.” Tracy smiles and shakes her blond waves as she flounces away cheerfully.

Tracy is very single, so I’m left supposing that I won’t see her until tomorrow morning, on our way to the airport and home.

********************************

My apartment telephone rings, an oddity as only a few people even know it exists (mostly it’s there just for the internet connection).

It’s my boyfriend, Alex. “Hey, Alex— why aren’t you here? I've missed you, and you know what our reunions are like when that happens…” Mostly it’s lying on his couch all day junking out, with occasional romantic interludes and naps. But those interludes…

“I had to work today, but I should be able to get out of here by around three. Got any plans?” This last is laced with insinuation, sending a tremor down my spine and into my…well, you know.

“Just a movie or two on your couch! I’ll be there waiting for you…” laced with the same innuendo.

**************************************

“So I told the whole group in San Diego about that great visit to Lube-Rite; thanks again for the advice on how to not get swindled.” Laying on Alex’s bare chest, I’m not sure if I should ask his advice on how I was regarded after sharing.

“And…how did they react?” Alex holds his breath when he finishes that question, which strikes me as unusual.

“Actually, it was really strange. At first it was total silence, but then the room erupted with cheers, smiles, and everyone got to their feet and applauded for like, ten minutes or so. But there was something else behind their smiles,” now I prop myself up on my elbows, looking him in the eyes—the eyes that are brimming with tears, in a face that quivers with barely restrained laughter? “What’s so funny, Alex?”

Nothing but laughing now, finally breaking through his attempts to stifle it. Laughing guffawing, and, finally, giggling. Alex only giggles when he’s played a prank. Or when he’s drunk, but he’s only had two beers. What is going on here?

After about a minute, which lasts forever, his giggles are replaced by some wistful exhalations and fervent wiping of tears, and he begins “Okay, okay. Just let me catch my breath.”

Another minute that lasts too long, my imagination spinning out of control and taking me to some very scary places.

“Alright. You remember asking my advice before you had to take your car for an oil change? Because it was the first time for you?” He seems careful, pensive even. “And how I told you to reject the offers for new air filter, new wiper blades, all that?”

I nod, not sure where this is going but needing to understand. “Yeah, of course, but I-“

“And how I had you make sure, doubly sure, that they check your blinker fluid?” Now his lips do that ‘I’m trying to not smile’ thing again.

“Yes! Yes, and they even topped it off for free! All five of the techs there assured me of that.”

Now he does laugh, and holds up a hand to forestall my questions. “There is no blinker fluid.”

“But they topped it off! They said -“

“No, Mish. There is no blinker fluid. There is no such thing.” Now he looks at me with an amused sort of pity. Maybe laced with guilt.

Pretty much the same look everyone at the conference gave me…

The preceding is a retelling of actual events. Names and places have been altered to protect their identity. And their egos.