Eight hours of my life that I cannot get back.
That's what I lost today when I drove to Durham for a teller referral class. Here's what I was hoping to avoid: ice-breaker activities and role-plays. I was unsuccessful on both counts. One of the first things we did was to stand up and go around the room to carry on a two minute conversation with three different people that we had never met before. Yeah, I was real comfortable with that.
This afternoon we were forced to leave the comfort of our own tables to pair up with yet another stranger in order to role-play back and forth. One would be the client while the other was the teller. We switched roles a few times before that nightmare ended.
In between all of this, I endured absolutely no new information. See, part of the hope of taking this class was that I would learn something that would make me a little better at the referral portion of my job. I didn't learn anything new. I didn't gain any new insights into my introverted personality. I also got annoyed by my classmates.
Really, I was just annoyed by two of them. Across from me was a college age girl who loudly complained throughout the entire day that we were taking too long. She wasn't lying, the class was dragging on an on. After three hours of class, we had only covered one of four chapters in the workbook. I just thought she was being pretty rude.
Sitting directly to her right was an emphyzemic chain smoker who not only complained, but I'm fairly certain she deposited one of her blackened lungs on our table. I don't think I ever heard anyone cough so much in one day. But we were there for a really long time.
If I never have to go to another of these classes again, it'll be too soon.
I'm pretty sure that black lung lady sat next to me at a recent movie I attended. If she's looking for her OTHER lung, it's probably in my hair.
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