oh, no ... tears are fallin'

Whimper, tear ducts working, sadness, inconsolable. She cries, peeved, no point talking about it; she's young, tired and presently irrational. Yep ... I've been around enough teens to know that some fits of high emotion are like fireworks; safe at a distance only. I couldn't help her, but was sad about it nonetheless.

The next person was different.
"[my name], [person's name] is on the phone for you."
Me? I figured that that person would prefer speaking with the GM, but I got the "opportunity".

She fought with her hubby and things went crappy from there. Essentially, she went spiraling down like shot bi-plane. Her decent wasn't as fast as a modern plane, but there was no way to escape it, except for bailing out without a chute. I already helped her in one way and much to no avail.

To embitter me, the husband called one day prior and needed to talk with a male manager believing that I would side with him because of male camaraderie. Dude, I don't know you. Don't pretend we're friends.

....
Camp counselor ... my first best duty, but it doesn't pay for squat.

blog title from, "Tears are Falling" by Kiss