Al Bucholtz called me this morning. At five a.m.
He said he was Al Bucholtz, he was 82 and he had had a stroke. Interesting information, but I wasn’t sure why he was telling me all this.
He said he had just returned from visiting his brother in Abbotsford. Again, interesting information (Abbotsford is where I live), but I wasn’t seeing the relevance.
The conversation wasn’t making much sense. But it is understandable that an older person might be a bit confused at five in the morning. Al said he would make allowances for me.
Al then asked to speak to my supervisor.
I said I didn’t have a supervisor—other than my wife. But I wasn’t about to wake her at five in the morning. I haven’t lived this long without learning some things.
Al asked, “Isn’t this Maplehurst seniors care home?”
“No,” I answered. “Their number is one different from mine. It ends in a five, not a three.” (This has happened before. Usually at five in the morning.)
Al hung up—after I apologized for inconveniencing him and wasting his time. Al said he didn’t mind. After all, you couldn’t expect too much from old people at five in the morning.
Note: Some of the names in this post have been changed to protect…well, not to protect anyone but just because I have a faulty memory.