A Stranger's Assurance

When I started my job before the pandemic in 2020, I remember being extremely nervous about some of the nuances that came with the role. The job itself was fairly straightforward in nature. But, there were some elements to it that I wasn’t one hundred percent on. One of which was the impressively large copy machine they had in the mail room. I had used other ones in the past but this one was much different and I hadn’t gotten a chance to learn a little about how it works in case someone needed something from that machine and I was the only one around in that moment. Well, not to far after I started, maybe a week or so, it was a weekend evening, a little over halfway through my shift, when a gentleman comes in with some papers in his hand. He greeted me with a big smile and asked me if I could get a couple copies of the paper’s he brought with him. At the time, that was my biggest worry; not so much the copy process, but in general, not having the answers for someone in a hastily fashion. So, I clamed up super hard, and began to freak out. I told him I wasn’t proficient with the copier we have. He looked at me and simply told me that’s okay, let’s go to the machine and you can give it a try, because he wasn’t sure how to do it himself either.

At least he didn’t freak out on me, so already a better start that I had anticipated. So, as to his request, we went into the mail room and when I approached the copier, he just stood behind me and watched. Didn’t say anything, didn’t try to speed up the process. He just ushered me to give it a try and see what happens. I had watched people use the machine before, but didn’t know exactly which buttons they were pressing, but I did know where to put the paper to send it into the machine. So, I grabbed one of his papers from his, placed it into the tray, and just pressed the copy button. A little window came up on the screen asking what settings I wanted to use. I didn’t know what he wanted specifically; I opted to just go with the default settings. I pressed confirm, and the paper went into the machine. It made some beeps and boops, and after about ten seconds, the original paper came back out, and a second one popped out below it. I grabbed both and gave it to him, expecting him to, again, chew me out for not doing it the right way. Instead, what he patted me on the back and said:

“See, you knew how all along. Even if it isn’t double sided, that’s okay. You told me you didn’t know and you did. Good try, my friend.”

He then said he would try another building in the campus to find someone who could get it doubled sided. But he still thanked me for trying in the first place, and left. The rest of my shift, and even after I got home, I thought about that interaction. How he treated me not like an idiot, but instead encourage me to try something I wasn’t familiar with, and was okay with whatever happened, regardless of the outcome. He saw an opportunity for me to think on my feet, and grow. Again, it’s just a simple piece of paper and a copy machine, but that lesson was something he thought to share with me. Instead of getting upset about it, he let me figure it out for myself, encouraging me the whole way. It’s crazy how deep in our own heads we can get when under any kind of pressure. The whole time, I’m waiting for him to grow impatient and lash out at me. But he never did. And I only prepared for that mentally, because I’ve been conditioned to do so from previous experiences. He was the exception; he was the best-case scenario. My own brain messed with me the whole time; my anxiety flaring up and worrying about getting with this gentleman needed as quickly as possible. When, that was never his goal. He wanted something, but was willing to be patient and kind through it all. And the worst part, is that I never got the gentleman’s name so I could thank him for being so patient with me. I haven’t seen him since which is a shame, because now I know exactly what I’m doing. But this interaction begs the question, at least to me: how far does anxiety go in our minds? I know it’s bad on my end, but to what lengths will it go to screw with my perception of reality. I may never know. Regardless, I'd like to thank that gentleman for that lesson that I will carry with me for a long time. A stranger's assurance; a rare commodity, but one that's invaluable .