A Few Planets Short Of A Solar System

(I work in the administrative offices of a museum. One of my job duties is to answer the phone. The following call takes place one afternoon.)

Me: “Good afternoon, [Museum]. May I help you?”

Caller: “Yes, I would like to sign up for the astronomy workshop.”

Me: “Are you a member?”

Caller: “No, but I want to be. How much does it cost?”

Me: “There are different levels…”

(I explain the different levels of membership and prices.)

Me: “If you join today, I can give you the member price of $10 for the workshop and book your spot. If you are unable to join today, I will have to wait until the advance member registration is over and the cost will be $25.”

Caller: “I guess I need the family membership to cover my daughter and my mother. Well, she’s really not my mother but the nursing home was going to throw her out on the street…”

(She tells me a lengthy story about how a woman who isn’t her mother came to live in her home.)

Caller: “But I don’t have $95 to pay for it. I really want to come!”

(At this point she begins sobbing hysterically because she wants to come to the workshop, but we are only accepting member reservations at the moment.)

Caller: “I come and sit in your parking lot on the weekends and watch the happy expressions of people who are leaving your museum, wishing I could go in. Sometimes I will come and walk amongst the trees and think about what is going on inside the museum.”

(At this point, I’m a little creeped out but I try to help her because I feel a little sorry for her.)

Me: “I think it would be okay to make an exception for you and let you sign up, and even give you the member price.”

Caller: “Oh, thank you. Thank you. I will come see you next time I come to walk among the trees.”

(She never showed up for the workshop. I guess she got tired of walking among the trees.)