Bill Dempsey - Sympathy Card Plagiarist

 

 

I didn't sign the card. It wasn't a conscious choice. I wasn't avoiding the card. I didn't know the card existed. It never made its way to my desk. Thus, I never signed the card. I didn't seek it out. 

 

The reason the card was being sent around was in response to the email that came out on Monday. The email told us that one of the creative directors had lost her partner over the weekend unexpectedly. And the email also told us that there would be a wake on Thursday night. 

 

Now, I didn't know enough to sign the card, but I did know enough that when an email comes out and tells you that there's a wake for the creative director's partner on Thursday night, you bring a sport coat to work, and you leave at a respectable time on Thursday and go and pay your respects, which is what I did. 

 

When I showed up at the funeral home, I noticed a couple of my coworkers in the back, so I blended in with them. We sat down. One of my coworkers had never been to a Catholic wake. And so, we were discussing the etiquette of the whole situation. I don't know if any of you have not been to a Catholic wake, but the coffin was in the front of the room, open. You can either go open or closed. This was open. 

 

So, our coworker that had never been there before responded with what I thought was the appropriate amount of horror/fascination [audience laughter] at the ritual that I had been accustomed to since I was about 10 years old, coming from a large Irish Catholic family. The line started forming. People form a line and go up and pay their respects. And so, we got in line. When I got up to the casket, I knelt and pretended to pray, because it seemed like the right thing to do. 

 

I kept it short, but not dismissive. [audience laughter] After a few seconds, I crossed myself, and stood up and shifted off to my left, which is where the bereaved were standing. And then, you wait in the line again to say how sorry you are about the passing of this person you've never met before, which I was happy to do.

 

It was at this point that I noticed that the creative director was flanked one side by her assistant, someone I knew slightly better. See, the creative director and I, we did not know each other very well. At this point in my career in about 150-person group, you could say probably 50 of those people were my superiors. I didn't interact with them on a daily basis very often. My direct report I did interact with, but other than that, it was like a series of faces and names and like, “Could that person fire me? Can this person--” I don't know. [audience laughter] 

 

Her assistant, however, I had a few personal email exchanges with and had seen her out to drink a few times. And so, there was a familiar face, which I would later find out. It would have been much better had she been a worse employee and did not attend the wake of her boss's partner. 

 

It comes my turn. I walk up to the creative director, and I extend my hand along with my condolences and immediately, I'm shocked to be engulfed in this deep, emotional hug. I hug her back, because that's what you do. I'm just chalking it up to the emotion of the week and the day, and what this woman must be going through. And so, I hug her back. 

 

The hug ends, and I pull back and she looks me directly in the eye. Her eyes are rimmed with tears, and she says, “It means so much that you came.” And I say, “Of course, I wouldn't not come.” And she says, “And I need you to know what you wrote in the card was so beautiful and meant so much to me over these past couple days.” [audience laughter] The card I did not sign. 

 

Immediately, I have two options open to me, both of them horrible. [audience laughter] First, I can say, “No, no, you're wrong. You've made a horrible mistake. I'm not who you think I am, nor did I sign your card.” [audience laughter] The second option, while also slightly repellent to me personally, felt like the more merciful way to handle the situation, which is how, as this woman was thanking me for something that helped her through this moment of grief, I became a sympathy card plagiarist. [audience laughter] I didn't want to, but I had to. 

 

And so, I said, “It was nothing. Please don't mention it.” I tried to move left to get away, and let the other people come and say they were sorry. But as I move to someone who I've never met before and who I'll never see again, to say I'm sorry about this dead person who I've never met before and I'll never see again, I hear the creative director lean in to her assistant and whisper, “Who is that?” And her assistant whispers back, “That's Bill Dempsey.” He works on the nineth floor analysis group. 

 

And immediately I'm back in front of her. She grabs my arm and she's apologizing to me. “I'm so sorry, Bill. I thought you were someone else. It's been such a long week.” And I say, “Please don't apologize to me. I can't imagine the week you've been through. I can't imagine what's going on. If anyone deserves a pass for mistaking a coworker for someone else tonight, it's you. Please don't give it a second thought.” [audience laughter] And that's when she looks at me and says, “You didn't sign the card.” [audience laughter] Thank you.