Isn't it facinating how memory works. Someone mentions a name and that reminds you of an event with that person, then that leads to an interaction of that person and another, then it leads back to how the third person has impacted on your life. Names, phrases, sights and smells all do this for me.
While having tea at a roadhouse in South Australia, Ross recently saw someone we used to know in Swan Hill. He mentioned the name which bought back some not too pleasant memories of my first job as a spare parts girl for an International Harvester dealership. Yep - fresh out of school as a skinny little blonde chick trying to convince truckies and farmers I knew what I was talking about! The head mechanic in the dealership workshop was Big John. He was big and tough and made the apprentices tremble when he bellowed at them, but to me he was a puppy!
He took me under his wing and helped me to not be intimidated by all those customers who believed a woman couldn't do the job I was doing. On one occaision a farmer demanded to see the spare parts man. I said "That's me" with a smile and e emanded to see the spare parts manager. "That's me too" I smiled back, trying to stay pleasant and break the ice. He then proceeded to demand to see the workshop foremen. I dissapeared out the back and came back with Big John. The farmer grunted at him the model of his tractor and that he wanted an oil filter and a wheel bearing. John let out a string of colourful language, ending with "...and she knows more about a parts catalogue than you and I will ever know so you better be a bit more polite when you talk to her or you can drive 2 hours to the next dealership!"
The farmer was very polite from that day on and I continued to smile sweetly as I retrieved his parts!
The unpleasant memory that had first come to my mind was of a very sleezy individual who had a trucking business. He was one of those who never make eye contact - if you know what I mean. He also had a habit of following me through the shop and always standing way too close. This day he stood in the doorway leading from the front of the shop to the workshp, and as I passed through he grabbed me. Fortunately my big angel in overalls had been watching him for some time. I think the concrete floor of the workshop shook as Big John stormed through into the shop. He pushed his big belly up against the truckie, looking down on him with a steely gaze. "You ever touch her again... you even look her direction...." There was really no need to explain the consequences. John rode a Harley and his big frame made it resemble a scooter!
Once again this particular customer was nothing but polite from then on.
Oh, and Big John also taught me how to do a hand brake turn when I traded my Mini in on a V8!!!
