It wasn't that Rachel was difficult, but she liked things done correctly, and few people did things right these days. The whole world seemed to be slipping. Far too many houses needed painting or repairs, lawns were left un-mowed or not trimmed properly, and trash and leaves accumulated in corners and were left there forever. People were becoming haphazard in dress and speech, as well. Simple courtesies had been all but forgotten in Thatcherville. She didn't understand why everyone couldn't pay a little more attention to detail. The world may be going to ruin but Rachel would never let it happen to her. Her house was always dusted and vacuumed and everything was in order. Her lawn and garden were impeccably tended. If she took a job, she did it right. She dressed appropriately and her hair was always in place. Few situations ever found her unprepared. In her circle of acquaintances, Rachel was the person everyone regarded as the perfect example of good taste and dependability. She knew she was not totally flawless -- after all, she was human - but she enjoyed the reputation. If only the rest of humanity would get with the program, her world would be perfect.
Rachel got used to the negligence around her, and she tried to not let it bother her, but sometimes it was more than she could bear. She was standing in line to pay for groceries one Thursday when the incompetence of the world seemed to converge in the bumbling of one inept clerk. First the boy entered the wrong code for some produce for the customer ahead of Rachel and had to void the sale and begin again. There was a long line, but he seemed unconcerned. Even at a snail's pace, he gave the wrong change back and argued with the customer before realizing it was his own mistake.
Rachel tapped her foot impatiently. Rachel would never have the bad manners to make a scene, but she couldn't help mumbling under her breath.
"Good lord - Is it too much to expect other people to do things right the first time?
She heard a voice from behind her say, "You got it."
Rachel looked around, but no one met her eyes. The blank faces on those behind her made it impossible to know who had spoken.
Something about the light in the store changed in that instant, though. The line moved quickly before she could think much about it and the clerk checked her out like a pro. A bag boy appeared and sacked her groceries with great care and helped her cheerfully to the car.
Rachel looked around at the parking lot before she got in. Something was different, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Everything looked cleaner - the cars, the parking lot, even the customers coming and going to their cars looked like a better class of people.
Perhaps it was just her mood, but the rest of the afternoon went uncommonly smooth. When she went to the cleaners to pick up a sweater, the clerk found it immediately. They had done a beautiful job. The clerk, who never smiled and was usually a mess, was personable this time and dressed in a neat shirtwaist.
As she drove home, Rachel noticed that the neighborhood was neater. She didn't see a single house that needed paint or repairs. Every lawn was mowed and trimmed precisely. By the time, Rachel got home she suspected she was in heaven instead of Thatcherville.
The following week was bizarre but busy, and Rachel did not have time to analyze what was happening. Everyone in Thatcherville kept appointments; they were on time and dressed properly. People were polite and always said the correct thing. Tradesmen could be counted on to do their jobs quickly, expertly, and charge the proper amount. Nothing had to be returned the entire week.
Rachel did feel like she was in the Twilight Zone, but it was kind of nice. Finally the rest of Thatcherville were conscientious and doing their jobs with proficiency.
"And that is a good thing, isn't it?" she asked herself somewhere in the second week of perfection. The truth is, as much as she enjoyed the change, she also had to admit that there didn't seem to be as much to talk about since all of her complaints had vanished, and things were getting rather boring. It wasn't as satisfying to be perfect when she didn't have some inferiors around to bounce her superiority off of.
And then it happened. Rachel made a mistake. She spilled cafe latte all down the front of her white lace blouse in full view of everyone in Starbucks. The looks of disgust on their perfectly groomed faces were more than she could bear. She closed her eyes and wished she could disappear.
A voice from behind her asked, "Is perfection wearing a little thin?"
Rachel didn't turn around. She knew no one was there. "Yes, quite enough - please."
She opened her eyes. A woman dressed in sweat pants hurried over with a napkin in hand. "Here, honey. Did you get burned?" Rachel noticed crumbs on the woman's tee shirt.
"No, thank you. I'm fine." Rachel looked around Starbucks. The crowd was no longer the impeccable group they were a moment ago. Some were dressed suitably but others looked like they taking a break from cleaning the garage. Two or three tables had not been cleared and there was a napkin and a crumpled newspaper on the floor. Teenagers at one of the tables were talking too loudly and one boy was even sitting backwards on two legs of his chair. No one was staring at her, though. They were busy reading their papers and talking with one another.
Rachel smiled. Never had imperfection been so attractive.
The End