Call me at 6am over minor stuff? Enjoy the coffee drinking contest at midnight
I’m a pastor in a small town with a lot of farmers. In my church organization the pastor is there to preach, visit the sick, teach classes, and set long-term direction for the congregation. I’m not in charge of the finances, cleaning crew, all sorts of other stuff. We have committees and volunteers who do a much better job than I can at all of that.
Due to this my work schedule is fairly flexible, but I frequently have meetings or classes that last until 9 or 10 oclock at night. I rarely come into the office before 10am. I stumble in, with a mug of coffee, and then drink coffee all day. It’s even a friendly joke in the congregation, don’t call Pastor before 10am, he’s not awake.
But this one gentleman, (Let’s call him Farmer Brown) on the board of properties, started calling me at 6:00am to check on things.
“Pastor, did I wake you?”
“Well, yeah, Farmer Brown, you did. What’s up?”
“Well, Pastor, I think we need to talk about….” And then he brings up minor issues. The contract with where we get the oil for the lamps in the sanctuary. The timeline for fixing the water fountain in the hallway. The stains on the chairs that haven’t come out yet. The powerwashing of the parking lot and repainting of the parking lines.
I’ve told him a few times that I’m not up that early, and that, while important if he needs feedback, he has the authority to work on these items and simply report in to our monthly council meeting.
This has fallen on deaf ears.
So one night, around 11pm, I drove out to his house. Farmland. It’s quiet. I knock on the door. And knock again. I hear movement inside, door cracks open, and it’s the wife.
“Hi, Mrs. Brown. Is Farmer Brown up?”
“No, he’s gone to bed a few hours ago.”
“Would you mind getting him for me? It’s really important.”
“Oh? Oh! OK, Pastor. Hang on. Why don’t you come into the den and you two can talk.”
“Thank you so much. Oh, Mrs Brown? Would you mind putting on a pot of coffee? This may be a while.”
Her eyes widen, but she knows me, trusts and likes me, and if I’m showing up saying its important, well, this is not time to mess around.
Farmer Brown stumbles into the den, I pour a cup of coffee for him and take one for myself, and proceed to bring up in excruciating detail the incredibly important business I had to work with right now.
Item 1: The contract for the oil for the lamps. We looked at 3 suppliers, the price per unit with shipping, and then I even dove into the environmental impact of the three companies and pushed for the slightly more expensive oil that burned cleaner and whose manufacturer had a better safety record. I think that took him at least 2 cups of coffee.
Item 2: The water fountain. I discussed the rust on the supply line, the need to have this fixed in time for the Summer kids program, the need for our older members to get cool water before service. The replacement of the stool the kids use to reach it, and if it should be wooden or metal, the rubber grips to make it skid-proof…this took only about ¾ of a cup.
Item 3: Powerwashing the lot. Electric or fueled washer? Gas or diesel? Hire it out or I can do it, but is it worth my time to do that in terms of what the church pays me? More environmental impact issues of the type of paint, type of washer, soap or detergent, moss growing in the north side of the garden and staining the walls, the need to redo the sprinkler system that someone broke 15 years ago and never repaired. I broke out the site map and began to plan out the new sprinkler system (I used to work for a landscaper, and redid plumbing in a few of my previous homes). Flow rates and water pressure and length of line, sprinkler heads and hard-plumbed or adjustable connections…
The pot was gone by this point, I’ve casually brewed another, and we got half-way through that pot as well.
Now, a note about my coffee habits. I drink a lot of coffee. I roast my own beans, grind them and brew right before pouring. I’m a coffee nerd that talks about the flavors in single-origin beans. I make strong coffee. I make coffee that after drinking it, my brother swore ‘he could see sounds’. I’ve used it for years as a supplement to my anti-depression medication. With my coffee, I can stay on a lower dose of pills and still function. I can drink a pot of my coffee then go straight to sleep.
I went through every item he ever brought up to me at 6am. I got most of a pot of coffee into him. It’s typical farmer coffee which tends to be weaker. But it is still most of a pot. We hit the last item, I abruptly said, “Thanks so much for your help on these very urgent matters!” , stacked my papers, and hit the door. Drove home, went to bed and slept like a dead man. I heard from Mrs. Brown later on that Farmer Brown didn’t get a wink the rest of the night, and was dragging butt for two days until he could re-sync his sleep schedule.
Farmer Brown never called me before 10am again. And now the church jokes, “Don’t call Pastor before 10am. If you do, he’ll show up at your house at night and make you drink coffee for hours!”
Edit just to head this off: people do call at any time for emergencies. That’s never a problem. And if I know about it ahead of time, I’ve met with people far before 10am.
Edit part 2: I had someone message and ask why I just flat out asked him to stop calling me that early. It’s basically a matter of perception. Think southern US and manners. If I did that directly, I’m rude, and word gets around that I don’t like people calling me, which means the next time someone is in trouble or hurting they hesitate to contact me and they hurt for no reason.
For further examples: I helped an elderly family member move into town. The house purchased had been vacant for several years. As we move in, fix plumbing, set up utilities, the lawn is neglected until we can buy a mower or find a lawn service. The neighbor next door doesn’t come over and say, “You yard looks like crap!” She says, “I have the most wonderful lawn guy, do you want his number?.” I tell her yes, but she never brings it over or tells me. After I cut down an oak tree branch and it is by and not on the property line between us, she comes by and says, “Will this be in the way? My lawn guy is coming this afternoon.” (Subtext: why haven’t you done something about your lawn? I’m taking care of mine!)
Same neighbor has several magnolia trees in her yard. One is sickly. I ask about it. “That tree looks a little puny. Do you know what’s wrong with it?” I expect to hear about it being at the end of life cycle, or they over trimmed it, or some pest that lives in the area, or the result of a drought or flood or something like that…maybe the area of the lawn is too low and damp. I’m generally curious as to why that tree is different. She hears “Your tree is crap, why aren’t you taking care of it?” and responds with “Well, the other trees look nice!” Yes. Yes they do. Didn’t ask about them. But you’re not allowed to bring things up directly.
Source: reddit.com/r/pettyrevenge
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