A client’s a people

On the thirteenth of June I was sitting alone
Just sitting, not working, I was watching my phone
Waiting, and dreading, the direst of things
For I knew what it meant when the telephone rings
I’d heard of a beast much more dreadful than most
Who comes in the day (just after the post)
A Client they’d called it, and you know what is more?
A Client would find me, alone on the floor
No-one there with me to answer the phone
Poor little me, just here on my own
I tried to avoid it, I was tempted to leave
To run off to China, but my parents would grieve
So I sat there alone, looking down at my phone
Awaiting the moment I would let out a moan
I was worried, it’s true. I was out of my head
Awaiting the Client who filled me with dread
I was chewing my fingers, right down to the bone
Looking, no, staring, at my desk, at the phone
I bit down too hard, bit my nail to the quick
I looked at the blood and it made me feel sick
And it happened, the phone I’d been watching all day
It started to ring, and I just have to say
That I didn’t think, ‘cause my fingers were sore
I picked up that telephone, and what is more
I started to speak, and I said “Holy Cow!
Don’t you know that I’m busy? Really, what now?”
It wasn’t the finest of starts I admit
But it did make that nasty old Client laugh a bit
And they said with a giggle “why, is this a bad
Time to be ringing, would you rather I had
Waited until you’d called me instead?”
I sat there a while, thoughts filling my head
Would I be fired? Would anyone know
If I put the phone down, slunk away, really slow?
“Client, is that you?” I said, full of fear
Desperately thinking of covering my rear
“Yes, it is me, are you sure you’re ok?
Didn’t mean to disturb you.” And I have to say
That nasty old Client actually sounded concerned
And one of the few things in life that I’ve learned
Is it’s hard to be scared when someone really cares
Or when someone you know comes right out and shares
A thought or a feeling to which you relate
And right then I realised; I’m glad not too late
The simplest of things which stopped all my bother
A Client’s a People, they must have a mother!
And if that’s the case, then surely they must
Have a Father as well and surely, well just
They might even have to have gone off to schools
And lived all their lives under somebody’s rules
Perhaps they were only a People like me?
There was one way to check, to test it and see
I said to that Client, “I’m sorry I just
Bit my finger too hard and I think that I must
Admit I’m a fool, that I did something wrong.”
Said the Client, “No worries, I knew all along
Something wasn’t right. I bite my fingers too
Same as lots of fine People I know tend to do”
And there, there it was, the Client’s a People
I needn’t be scared, I needn’t be fearful
I could just be myself, I could be who I am
That was easy enough, no more living a sham
I could share what intrigued me
What excited and pleased me
My worries all gone I asked how they were doing
How their business was faring with all of this hooing
About the economy, worries and woes
Will it grow or stagnate? Seems nobody knows
We talked most an hour, well mostly I listened
’til not one single bead of sweat on my brow glistened
I’d made a connection and next time I knew
Next time we spoke, I knew just what to do
I’d make sure I’d called them, or paid them a visit
Because Peoples are People, and really, who isn’t?

A client's a people
With love and apologies to Dr Seuss.

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