What up, bridges!

Hello again, mis amiguitos, and welcome to UOPTA. No, no, that doesn't stand for, "Undercooked Ostrich Parts Taste Awful," but one can only assume that that's a factual statement. Instead, this UOPTA is a little slice of the web in which I write my thoughts and stories. If that sounds agreeable to you, then I suggest you proceed to the next paragraph. (Thanks again to my favorite brother for supplying that UOPTA. If you'd like to get in on that action, ptklein@gmail.com is the place to direct your acronymical genius.)

I was a part of a story a couple of weeks back that bears repeating. When someone handles a situation in the exact opposite manner than I would have, I tend to take note of it. Well, I know a guy who I'll call Barry, and he is the lead in this tale. He was in a predicament (which you can't spell without Peter), and he asked both me and a friend our opinions on it. He said that he'd let the majority rule on how he should handle it. Here's the situation: Barry has been going to the same dentist for about 15 years. He has a nice working relationship with the tooth doc, and everyone knows him at the office because of his long-standing patronage. Well, he received a bill in the mail from the dentist's office for a whopping $1.20. On the bill was a hand-written note by the office manager (who has been there for as long as Barry's been a patient) saying that amount was a service fee from one of the invoices in the recent past being a little late.

"The way I see it," Barry told us, "I have two options. I either just write a check and send it in or I mail them 120 pennies and never go back." "Uh, there's a third option that I'd recommend," I said. "How about you call and say something to the effect of, 'I just received this bill, and since it's only a dollar, can you please just add it to my next bill instead of having me write a check for that tiny amount?' There's no need to antagonize them." I also pointed out, should he choose to go there, that it probably costs more than $1.20 for the invoice to be printed, mailed, and then mailed back with another stamp and a check. He explained that he was upset by the way that he, a loyal customer, had been treated. "But why punish the doctor for something his accounting staff did?" I asked. "They represent him, and they probably got his approval before sending that out," he said. Our friend took a slightly different approach, suggesting that Barry's girlfriend call and say that Barry would be very upset to see that and to please roll it over. I didn't get why another person had to be involved, so I kept pushing my idea. "Really, there's no need to send 120 pennies and end this professional relationship over someone's poor judgment - especially when it's probably not the dentist's judgment we're talking about." "I could probably go back to him after that if I wanted to," he said. "Oh yeah, and let the guy with sharp objects in your mouth determine if you were rude or not," I added.

We discussed it for a while longer, and he eventually agreed that my way made the most sense. So imagine my surprise when I got an email from him an hour later with a copy of what he wrote to the office manager. The subject of the email to me was, "I just can't help myself." Here it is:

"Rosemary-
All of us at my office had a good laugh over this bill.
At first I was insulted and angry that after 15+ years I would get a bill for $1.20 in service fees, but then my friends convinced me that I shouldn't take it that way, and it was obviously bad judgment on whoever decided to send this.
That said, please thank the doctor for his work with me over the years. I won't be back."

I immediately replied to that email as such: "I'll take Unnecessary Bridge Burning for 200, Alex."

You see, I try to make it a habit to avoid burning bridges at all costs. Especially in the business world, it's just a smart way to operate. If someone really rubs me the wrong way or is even offensive somehow, I tend to politely distance myself from him. It's not a matter of being non-confrontational or wimpy, it's about keeping doors open. Contacts, relationships, and the ability to make key introductions are things I value, so I take care not to damage those ties (even when warranted). You never know when you may need to reach out to someone, and I don't want to ever have to think, "Man, I sure would like to ask so-and-so about that, but he's probably still mad about the flaming bag of dog shit I left on his porch after our last disagreement." Now I doubt that Barry is going to run into a situation in which that dentist contact would've proven profitable, but he's essentially made an enemy out there when he didn't need to. If he was so offended, he could've just paid the trifling amount and found another dentist. Nope, that sound you hear is a flamethrower being taken to a well-worn, 15 year-old bridge.

I started thinking (uh oh) about my life and if I've always acted in this manner. And yes, I think I have. When leaving jobs or even relationships back in high school, I've always tried to be as amicable as possible. I like to keep the possibility of future conversations open, and I think that's a good thing. I find it important to limit the number of people who will say bad things about me when I'm not around. For example, during our senior year in college, my lovely wife nee girlfriend lived next to some interesting folks. On one side, she had the stoner/loud-praying Orthodox Jew scene, and on the other, the loud fratboy scene. One evening (or early morning to be precise), the fratboy side was very loud right outside her bedroom window. She had a test early the next morning, and so sleep was pretty important. Instead of opening the window and shouting something short and sweet like, "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" I thought for a minute. Why burn that bridge now, be the hated neighbor for the remainder of the year, and probably cause them to be even louder in defiance? So I took a different, more diplomatic approach. I walked out there, looking extra sleepy, and said, "Hey guys, I don't wanna be a dick, but we're trying to sleep just through that window there. You think you could keep it down just a little please?" Apparently that was speaking their language, and after some "No prob, bro" comments, they moved farther away. In the coming months, I even heard one of them say, "Hey, we should move down here instead, they're sleeping in there." I'd call that a victory.

Giving it more thought, I can only come up with two situations in which I didn't mind leaving some ashes behind me. The first, as documented in a post called "Hanger Anger" from 3/19/07, involved an incredibly inept drycleaner who would certainly never receive another dime from me. The second involves a story that I haven't told here. I'll keep it brief.

The summer after high school, a friend of mine from school told me that he was gay. It was something I had suspected for years, but had recently changed my mind since he kept going out with the hottest cheerleaders. Bastard. In any case, it didn't affect our friendship at all, except that I was honored that he felt comfortable enough to share that with me. About a week later, I stopped at the school to pick up some final things. I was in my car, heading out for probably the very last time, and I saw a guy I knew near the gate. He motioned for me to stop, so I rolled down my window and said hi. This guy had been a giant asshole since I met him. He was always way too cool for everyone, and when we briefly worked together once, he did his best to make himself look good by putting everyone else down. Needless to say, we weren't great buds. So we exchanged pleasantries for a minute, and then he said in a very sarcastic tone, "So I hear (name) finally came out of the closet. Wow, big shock there. Didn't see that coming. He sure fooled us." I stared at him for a second, and then after a sigh and a little head shake, I told him to fuck off and I drove away. I won't lie; it felt great, and I'd do that again ten times out of ten. I can still picture his look of mild disbelief in my rearview mirror. Good times, good times.

And with that, let's express our innermost feelings on down to the Car Watch.

First up, my homey Rockabye saw a plate that I think negates the point it's trying to make. It read, "SMARDY 1." Oh sure, it was on a Smart Car, so maybe the driver was talking about the vehicle and not him/herself. Still, there's something inherently wrong with spelling "smart" incorrectly...even on purpose.

Next up, my dad sent me a plate that I rather enjoyed: "NCOGETO." If we assume that the plate is trying to say "incognito," then I just have to laugh. First off, you don't tell someone you're incognito; that completely defeats the purpose. Second, it doesn't really work without the N in there. I'm guessing "NCOGNTO" was taken, so the driver thought this way was good enough. I disagree. Unless, of course, it's spelled that way on purpose to throw us off the scent. Yes, I've got it. The word "incognito" is going incognito on us by masquerading as the mild-mannered "ncogeto." Brilliant!

And lastly, I saw a plate that read, "IM PINK." I suggest you go back on the grill for a little longer then. Especially if you're ostrich meat, for I read somewhere that one should cook that thoroughly for the best-tasting result.

That's it for me, homepeople. I'll be back here next Friday with more, but feel free to email ptklein@gmail.com before then with any thoughts, stories, jokes, UOPTA meanings, or whatever else suits your fancy. (Your fancy looks dashing in a suit, by the way.) Before signing off, let's celebrate. Happy 2nd birthday to my little cousin Rio today. Wednesday is our friend The Mills' half-birthday, and Thursday is the half-birthday of both lifelong friend Bryan and good friend/fellow literature nerd Melissa. Shaloha, and be happy and healthy.