In the Booth

The man in the little square is complaining about an email.

No one showed it to him before it went out in his name.

So he is free to take a bat to everyone who touched it.

He doesn’t really care about getting the next one right.

But he wants to be heard. Seeing fear in other people’s eyes is evidence that he’s being heard.

I listen patiently as he rants.

I’m alone in the “privacy booth” but feel exposed like never before.

There’s no point in defending anything. That’s just looking backwards.

I don’t think the man in the window understands how much work he is making for himself.

Because he clearly trusts no one to help him the way he wants to be helped.

And so the untrusted will write his emails and defer all judgement to him.

Which means he’ll have to read them all himself and rewrite them.

Because he wants to be heard first.