A Ringing Phone Saves the Day (or Insert foot, almost)

In the early 90’s, I was working downtown, trying to make a career change into the insurance field. I had a nice office, a great view of downtown but barely eeked out a living.

I was headed out the door with a friend of mine to have lunch. At the receptionist desk, sat Joan who was covering for the regular receptionist’s lunch hour. She asked us where we were headed, and as I am prone to do, I said, “We are going to discuss that Lebanon thing”. (At the time, Lebanon was the subject of daily bombings, kidnappings and chaos.) Of course, we were headed for lunch but why give someone a straight answer when a fake one will do? Joan answered, “My Dad’s over there in Lebanon.”

I spun on my heels. Here was someone with a family member in harm’s way. Why on Earth would you step foot in a country that has people pulled off the street and held for ransom? There must be eight or ten people being held by terrorists willing to use them to get air time. I was going to ask her why her father would stay in such a dangerous place.

Then a remarkable thing happened.

The phone rang. She picked up the phone and was trying to help the person on the other end. Time was running, so we headed back out the door and found a place to eat while taking in the sights and sounds of downtown.

We made it back from lunch and went about the business of the day.

Then a couple of hours later, Sharon knocked on my door. Could she talk to me? Sure.

She said she heard about us going to lunch today. Then she dropped a bombshell. Did I know Joan’s father was one of the hostages being held in Beirut! (I could feel the blood leaving my face.)

One of the hazards of being a smart aleck is edging THIS close to inserting your foot in your mouth. I quickly tried to recall exactly what I had said. I told Sharon I had no idea her father was in Beirut, of course I wouldn’t have said a thing if I knew this. (Why did I have to reply to everything?) She assured me that Joan wasn’t upset or anything, but she figured she needed to tell more people about her family than just a select few.

Happily, I can say her father made it home several years later. I met him at a reception they held for him at Joan’s house. He was a nice man with a very caring daughter.
I saw Joan a couple of months ago at my nephew’s open house, I was so thankful that one day in 1990, the phone rang and saved me from looking for a dentist to perform emergency ‘foot extraction”. I’d like to say I learned a lesson, and stopped being a smart aleck----I’d like to say that, but I can’t.