I Swear! That is my REAL Name…

If you are like me, you have a special attachment to your name. I’m proud of my name. My name stands for ME. I hear my name and it is who I am. There is only one me. I would never change my name. For anyone. Period. In my world, my name represents who I am at any given moment.My name isn’t just a name… it is me.

My name is Tammy. Not Tamara. I don’t have a problem with the name Tamara. One of my best friends is named Tamara. I know two Tamaras as a matter of fact. But my name isn’t Tamara. It’s T A M M Y. Also, not Tami or Tammi. Once again, I’m fine with those spellings. It is who they are. Just not me.

My mother named me after the movie from the 60’s Tammy and the Bachelor. And yes, many an older man has sung the song to me through the years. Definitely creepy when I was in my teens and early 20s.

Ok, now with that said. I have a great story to share. I’ve told this story many times and people think it is hilarious. And it is 100% true.

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It was around 1994, I was a 27/28-year-old Store Manager for Home Depot. One night while working late, the phone operator popped his head in my office and said that I was going to love this call. A woman was on the phone, freaking out and wanted to speak to THEE Store Manager.

I told him no problem, just shoot her over. He said you might regret it, then laughed as he left to go transfer the call.

Here is what happened next…

ME: Hi, this is Tammy how can I help you?

CRAZY LADY: Who is this? (with a mean tone)

ME: This is Tammy, how can I help you?

CRAZY LADY: I want to speak to the Store Manager! (even more irritated)

ME: Ma’am, my name is Tammy and I’m the Store Manager how can I help you? (trying to stay as nice as I can)

CRAZY LADY: You can’t be the store manager! I want to speak to the store manager!

ME: Ma’am, I promise you I am the store manager, how can I help you tonight? (now I’m starting to laugh inside)

CRAZY LADY: What is your name again?

ME: Ma’am, my name is Tammy, what can I do for you?

CRAZY LADY: That isn’t your name! What is your real name?

ME: Ma’am, my real name is Tammy how can I help you?

CRAZY LADY: WHAT IS THE NAME ON YOUR BIRTH CERTIFICATE!!!? (she punctuates each syllable in case I’m a little slow)

ME: (now a little irritated) Ma’am, my name is Tammy Adams and that is what is on my birth certificate. How can I help you today?

CRAZY LADY: Well you need to change it!

ME: (ok, I bite) Ma’am, why should I change it?

CRAZY LADY: No man is going to take you seriously with a name like that.

ME: (oh no you didn’t) Ma’am, I’ll keep that in mind, what can I do for you today? (before I say something I regret)

CRAZY LADY: You know, some people think I’m crazy, (some????) but I actually have an above average IQ. (you don’t say)

ME: That’s great, so ma’am what can I do for you today?

Twenty minutes into the call I learned she had a concern with the relocation of the store we were just starting. She felt the construction folks were about to create a massive catastrophe with the way they were building the berm for the dirt walls. I wont bore you with the rest of the story. But let’s just say this is how it ended….

CRAZY LADY: You know, you really should change your name.

ME: Yes ma’am, I’ll keep that in mind….

100% True Story – I Pinky Swear

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Thank you crazy lady, for giving me one of the best stories I get to tell through the years. And maybe, just maybe, this phone call helped reinforce my passion for what my name is.

~~~till we laugh again~~~

I Don’t Do Phone

Every Christmas a tradition goes on in many homes across the world – Pass the Phone Around.

Now, I’ve never been a fan of this particular tradition. It has always been a form of torture for me. I’m not sure if bamboo under the nails is worse. Tho I assume it has to be so I just do “phone” when required to be a good daughter or friend. (Although I failed miserably yesterday)

You see, I DON”T DO PHONE! Maybe you have someone in your family like me. My nephew is grooming to join my club.

Here is the issue. I hate talking on the phone. Period. I hate holding the phone to my head, I hate the talking. I hate the small talk. I hate being on hold. I hate everything about it. Those close to me know this. It took many years for them to accept it.

I feel worse for my mom as she probably has been hurt the most by this quirk of mine.(Although she does get at least one good call a week and sometimes I actually listen too). I have another family member that builds up her “7 minutes” of talk time that I must use each month.

Yea, I admit it, I have a bad memory on my calls. I’ve been known to hang up then be asked what did you two talk about? I’ll have a blank stare and honest to god I can not recall what we discussed. I know, I suck. I’m bad. I’m a terrible daughter, friend, co-worker, you name it. I accept my loserhood. I know a big part of this particular issue is my failure to not multi-task while talking. But just sitting or standing there listening to someone is like hitting me over the head with a 2 x 4.

Oh and don’t put me on hold. I will hang up. It’s nothing personal, I don’t do “phone” so I sure the heck don’t do “hold”. I’ve had several awesome administrative assistants in my time and one of the first things I told them is I hate being put on hold. I’m ok with you putting me on hold to take care of customers, employees or emergencies. But when I’m not there when you come back, don’t take it personal, just call me back. They all understood and accepted my deficency in this area.

Currently I’m trying to reach out to one of my sisters but we have a communication gap. She prefers phone, I prefer text, email, carrier pigeon, anything but talking on the phone. She on the other hand never looks at facebook, her cell is lost in her purse or the cushions and I think she forgot her email password or the dog ate it. Oh well, I guess that carrier pigeon option is starting to look better.

Ok, I will admit that bluetooth and headphones has helped. Only a tiny bit. I no longer need to hold the phone to my ear but I still have that small talk problem or even worse, paying attention 100%.

As we move into a new year, I could pretend to have a new resolution to be better at this, but I’d so be lying. I’ve hated it for the past 40 years I’ll hate it for the next 40.

In parting I have one thing to say…… TEXT ME! I promise we can have a conversation in short messages. It will feel like we talked for hours.

And if you love me… Please, please, please … Don’t make me do phone!   😀

 

~~~~~~till we laugh again~~~~~~~~~~