The Purple Tablecloth

Today while packing up at Kaplan's free practice test event, I folded a purple plastic tablecloth.

I concentrated on the ridges already there, trying to divine what the original tablecloth folder had in mind. Did she want it folded lengthwise inward first? Or maybe she flipped it outwards along the width. Biting my lips, I folded it over and over again, feeling that I was intruding upon my predecessor's tablecloth-folding territory and making too many of my own grooves.

All of a sudden, one of the Salt Lake Kaplan center ladies came over and eased it out of my hands. She rustled the tablecloth, clumsily connecting corner to corner, and shoved it away in the container. The edges didn't even kiss. She laughed, "Oh my goodness, you're not one of those OCD girls are you?"

I vacillated between shock and confusion.

Me with OCD? What is she talking about?

It just never occurred to me that I could fold this piece of purple plastic so casually, completely disregarding the perfect symmetrical ridges that somebody's flawless folding had imprinted. Her total indifference almost seemed . . . sacrilegious.

So, when her back was turned, I took it out and folded it again.

p.s. Today I learned that I hate selling. But unfortunately, I'm very good at it.