Mixed Nuts - episode 19

I met my socialite friend at an upscale hotel, one that plays host to wealthy businessmen, which she likes to stay at whenever she's in town. So does Al Gore.  I agree to meet her there 'cause besides the opportunity to play dress up there is always a roster of local celebrities, and gossip columnists, in tow coming for what's known as the power breakfast, power lunch or Monday Night Football, and she picks up the tab (she doesn't wish to dine alone).  She's convinced that by staying there she has optimized her odds of meeting, "the right people."  

At over two thousand dollars a night, which she welcomes to pay, one would wonder what her objection could be with any of the hotel's other charges.  So goes the issue of a meager twenty dollar daily tip she slips the breakfast room manager intended to garner introductions to men who are potential candidates; eligible bachelors.  Sounds like a working formula, but it's not quite that simple.  She's been staying at this same hotel for the past ten years. Perhaps it's a matter of her adjusting her wish list which is not for just any wealthy man, but rather one who is Jewish and has his own jet which is not shared or leased (by a coporation).

Did I mention she's now nearing sixty five years old which wipes out nearly every patron at the hotel (and the planet)?  What's left to target, the men who could potentially fufill her criteria (btw, who have their own agenda which does not typically include women over 45) are about seventy five years old if they are still alive. It amounts, nationwide, to a grand total of five.  No matter, I'm happy to meet her; it's a fun time, theoretically.

Needless to say I have a bunch of stories to one day retell which include a "you talking to me" story per Rob DeNiro, cocktails with the late Ed Bradley, dinner with Jerry Seinfeld (who said I am a funny lady), two back-to-back meetings with Wendy Williams (who holds the same opinion) plus a bonus Vegas tale with Flavor Flav (I met him at a cheap outlet mall).  All stories for another time and other articles.  This one's about her.

My socialite friend and I are waiting to be seated. The hostess, doing a diligent scouring job, suddenly pushes me aside in order to take hold of the man who walked in behind us. She turns to my girlfriend, placing the unsuspecting man before her, and starts the introduction.  "This is," unfortunately the plan derails.  My gf does not wait to catch the man's name before offering him a handshake along with her apology explaining she must go off to chat with some others she knows in the next room.  She's gone before he's given his name leaving him standing next to me with an annoyed look on his face.  

Replacing his hand back into a pant pocket he looks at me and says, "Well that one's nothing short of high maintenance."  Privately, I agree but since she's my host I'm abliged to defend. "Why would you say that?" I say somewhat sarcastically, but I do not leave well enough alone. "You've haven't spoken to her, so you don't really know her but yet for some reason you think it's appropriate to repeat a catch phrase which is the most ludicrous remark you could have made. Look where you are. You are standing in a place where there is not one person who isn't both middle aged and wealthy, which by those virtues alone makes each one of them notoriously difficult.  But SHE'S high maintenance?  Bet you wouldn't take care of a dog."  Thankfully our table is ready so I can be excused and he rescued. I Think I may have been PMS.

Takes a Prick - episode 20

We are all too accustomed to hearing it,"Bitch.” 

He said, she said if you ask me.  Cause or effect? Vulgar or everyday language?  Whatever. I guess living in the after math of the sexual revolution means learning to be unaffected by false labeling and numb to the intended harm. Same goes for the other one, "Drama Queen.”

For the most part name calling becomes meaningless when it becomes worn out. Perhaps that's why these two have little overall affect.  That's what I thought until the last few years 'cause now I hear teens who use the terms endearingly. I find this use a little odd.

However I have my hollaback for “Drama Queen." "Without emotions there is no beauty in life." Think it over.

My personal favorite is to turn the tables and call a man a bitch. They don't expect it so it usually has real punch. Like all name calling, I am careful to use these terms when they are irrefutable. Like calling someone "trash." It's best used when the name truly applies; evidentally justified (by the iliterate, unaccomplished or reserved for the uba lazy). Clearly an honored title.

However, there are lines that should not be crossed, even with name calling and/or other aggressions. Somewhere boundaries must exist just to keep the peace and a safe distance.  Unfortunately, there are few boundaries society employs, starting with games played in childhood. 

Maybe that's why I've always had a slight problem with baseball. I can't seem to resolve how it's ok to teach the young and highly impressionable that it's ok to steal even if it's just a base in a game. Perhaps, behaviors begin to fall apart from there. About the same time one learns to play baseball life inevitable thrust the innocent into the up-anted game, Monkey in the Middle. Remember that one? It usually ended when the so called Monkey wisened up or the bullies tire of the torment. (Once when I was The Monkey I intentionally ran into the catchers private parts, got my personal item and ran off much faster than he).  Seems like from early ages we have to learn to defend against bullying antics and peer pressure, after all the baseball coach is telling the runner to steal home. It makes name calling the slightest offense on the scale.

I recently watched a fencing match. The first sword bearing bee-face-screened player thrust his weapon into the arm of the unsuspecting opponent just as the match was about to start.  The ref gave the offender a warning but the damage was already done (he'd succeeded in injuring his opponent who's only other choice was to default the match). I guess you figured out who won that one. 

Little kids, little offenses; except this kid was no longer little.  Somewhere in development respect for authority somehow was ignored. I think about this often. I too often have seen, and navigate away from, these same rule bending kids who become grown up characters that run afoul usually with other people's money lining their pockets.  Where did it get started?