I have a distaste for drama queens. And "Heather" is one. The ASAP message was for one print that had the wrong background. ONE PRINT! Something so simple to correct. I was embarrassed for her. She answered her door with her hair a mess, and looking like she really loss sleep over this simple error. "Glad you came. I'm a wreck about this," she said. "I brought them home Friday, but I just looked at them this morning. Come in. Come in."
When she showed me the glossy prints, I was expecting to see something terribly wrong, but they looked the same. "I don't see the problem," I said.
Fidgeting, she ruffled through the correct ones to the one with the problem. "Here."
"Oh, it's just the background. Is this the only one?"
"Well, yeah." She genuinely looked shocked that I didn't go into a major breakdown over ONE PRINT.
"It's not like we have to do a whole run again. This one can be fixed quite quickly by art," I assured the basket case.
"Okay. Sorry you had to come all this way," she said. She finally looked as if she understood how mental she appeared to me. "At least let me make you some lunch."
I declined. I wanted to get home, because I kept having visions of a tall Swede with a razor and Skintimate Shave Gel arguing with my doorman. "She told me this time. I'm here to groom her."
On a side note: Jan thinks I'm going absolutely mad: "Did you buy Target baby oil on purpose?" he wants to know.