I received this note from Shelley this morning.
To Whom It May Concern:
Please excuse Shelley for being late. She had an ice cube freezer malfunction which she had to deal with before leaving. She also had to take her son to school since her parents were in their bathrobes. She will try to do better next time.
The note was a thoughtful gesture, written on proper stationary that folds into it's own envelope. More thoughtful, though, was the salutation. If she'd really been honest, it would have been addressed directly to me: "Dear Tennis Nazi:"... and would have gone on to say: "Please don't make my daughter feel like a pariah for showing up five minutes late for your tennis clinic. Get a life."
It's hard to understand why I'm so militant about tennis. Everyone I play with adores the clinics and games, but I'm the only one standing around tapping my toes about lateness. I'm not like that about anything else in my life, ever.
"Tennis Ladies" have a bit of a reputation for bitchiness. I wonder if this is how it starts.