If You'd Just Listened To Me In The First Place...

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If You'd Just Listened To Me In The First Place... - book excerpt

Nobody, and I mean nobody, can nag like I can. If you don’t believe me, just ask my husband Charlie. He'll probably roll his eyes without actually answering because Charlie isn’t one to waste words, but he knows in his heart that he wouldn’t be where he is today but for me and my nagging. Now, if you ask my neighbors and friends in Covington about me, they'll say: “Ella Boudreaux? Oh, she can be real persistent,” but they always say it in such an admiring way that I don’t mind at all. 'Nagging' just sounds so negative and I am not a negative person. Truth is, I’m the kind of person you'd ask for directions if you were lost, or tell your life story to while waiting in line at the grocery store, which has happened on more than one occasion, believe me.

So how does a person with my unique skill set make a living? As a bill collector, of course. It didn’t occur to me for a long time that this was my true calling--not until I had tried my hand as a dog walker, burger slinger, barnacle scraper, typist (on a real typewriter, with correction tape and everything), waitress (for fancy and not-so-fancy restaurants), and telemarketer.

Without a doubt, slinging burgers was the most humbling job, hands down. By the end of every shift, my skin and clothes had soaked up more oil than a gusher. The worst part of that job was feeling like I was in the army. We had to follow orders and never question our superiors, even if they were no smarter than a French fry! For an independent thinker like me, that was torture, as you might imagine.

While my other jobs had their highs and lows, I have to say that telemarketer was my absolute favorite. I certainly set some records while I was there, including: fewest magazine subscriptions sold, highest phone bills racked up, and most sob stories ever listened to--which may explain why I only lasted a month. But the stories I heard were priceless! It’s amazing what people will tell you when all you asked was: “Are you happy with your magazine subscription Mrs. _______?” Why, I could write a book! I heard about runaway dogs, philandering husbands, tragic illnesses, financial catastrophes, and children whose sole mission in life was to disappoint their parents. But it wasn’t all bad stuff. Some days I heard about upcoming nuptials, new grandbabies, second chances at love, and vacations to faraway places, like California and Hawaii.

And while this may not be news to you, it was a real eye-opener for me to learn that some people have no filter at all--whatever pops into their brains flies right out of their mouths faster than a kid coming down a water slide. So, while I tried to sell them magazines, they were spilling their guts like guests on The Jerry Springer Show. Funny thing is I never thought of it as a dead end job, not once. No, it was more like my own personal soap opera with an ever-changing cast of characters. All I had to do was listen--and throw in an encouraging word once in a while.