I had a message on the answering machine when I got home. Pushed the blinking light and heard "Hi this is so and so from your bank. I'm calling for Dean, although, mmm, I guess I might be calling for Anne, I don't want to assume. Umm. Anyway, just wanted to thank you for your service and wish you a Happy Veterans's day. Umm. Thank you."
Now, I don't live for generic well wishes from my bank. I'm pretty sure they don't really have my back. And I've been in the man's world for a looong time. So has my husband. And we both laugh at the Dr. and Mrs. mailings that computers generate that have our names oh so wrong. Most of this stuff is nt worth my time. I think kids today call it micro-aggressions. But I think I will call bank representative tomorrow. I promise I will be nice.
I actually want to acknowledge the pause, the moment of oh, I'm not sure which person is the veteran (spoiler alert, we both are) but I guess its probably the man, um, shit, why did I get tasked to make these calls today? I kind of feel bad for the guy. Because the bank clearly didn't give him complete information and without that we fall back on the familiar.
Whoever is the next president when I wake up, I will move forward. Tomorrow that will include an informative phone call to that guy.