Tuesday, August 17, 2004

The Ultimate Cure for Smoking

Work is more than stressful enough without crazy people, dontcha think? Well, if yours isn’t, mine is! In fact, it’s so stressful, that I’ve resorted to smoking cigarettes damn near every hour on the hour just to get a break.

The only down side to these much-needed smoke breaks is this crazy middle-aged woman who always manages to interrupt them with rhetoric I didn’t ask for and never needed to hear. Today, however, this woman pulled a story out of her hat that literally floored me and my coworkers…and the story offers a perfect testament as to how “touched” this woman really is. Here’s how it breaks down:

“Hey girls, how ya doin’?” she asks of my coworkers and I.

“We’re doing great…how have you been?” we reply almost in unison. None of us wanted to be bothered.

“I’ve been retro dating lately, so everything’s been great!”

“What’s retro dating?” my friend asks just before the light bulb illuminates in her head. “Oh! You mean you’ve been dating somebody from your past.”

“Yeah, I have,” says the crazy lady. “He’s a nice guy who lives out in Arizona. He never got married, and we recently caught up with each other, and now he’s coming to town next weekend to visit me.”

“Oh wow,” I say. “That’s great!” I’m really not the least bit interested, but what was I supposed to say?

“Yeah, I’m really excited. So, I’m doing everything I can to look my best. My mom told me about some cream that I could put on my face to get rid of my wrinkles. She told me to use a drop the size of a pea, but instead, I used one about the size of a quarter. Last night, it felt like my whole face was on fire!”

“Oh no,” I said, trying to hide the giggles that were coming forth with full force. What I really wanted to say was, Who gives a hot damn! But, I didn’t.

“Yeah, it was terrible. Look at my face!”

Her face was the color of a pale red apple, and the skin was peeling away from her nose and around her eyes. She looked like a clown, but I didn’t want to tell her.

“Wow, that’s too bad,” I say. “Next time, you had better listen to your mom.”

“Yeah, you’re right! But that’s not even the worst part. Now I have the Ronald McDonald Syndrome!”

Oh no, I’m thinking. What the hell is she talking about now? I took the bait anyway. “What’s Ronald McDonald Syndrome?” I ask, regretting the moment I did.

“Well, when my friend comes next weekend, he wants us to sit by the pool at his hotel. That means I have to wear a bathing suit. So, when I was dying my hair last weekend, I thought I could just color my pubic hair, too. That way, I wouldn’t have to worry about shaving as much, because I would have nice blond hair peeking out of the lines of my bathing suit. And that would look fine.”

In what world? Hair coming out of the sides of a bathing suit ain’t cute no matter what color it is! But I keep my mouth shut and let her continue.

“So, when I finished my hair, I had a little dye left over and decided to run it through the hair down there. I know the box says you shouldn’t, but I figured what was the big difference anyway…” Stupid…just stupid…that’s what I’m thinking.

“But after a few minutes, I looked down and all my hair was bright orange! It looked awful! My sister was there, so I ran downstairs and told her, ‘I’ve got Ronald McDonald Syndrome!’ She asked me what I was talking about considering she was a registered nurse and this was a new disease she wasn’t familiar with. So, I threw off my towel and showed her. See, I’ve got Ronald McDonald Syndrome!”

As she said this, she made these nauseating pelvic motions like she was imagining a steamy rodeo encounter with this retro friend of hers. My coworkers and I were disgusted.

Can you imagine some middle-aged, way-too-wrinkled, crazy woman at your job standing in front of your building moving like Elvis on his worst day while talking about her orange public hair? The inevitable vision you get is of nightmarish proportions. Damn lady…some shit you just need to keep to yourself!

So, for those of you who cannot quit smoking…holla at me, and I’ll hook you up with this crazy broad. One 10-minute session of her bullshit, and no smoking patch in the world could cure you faster.

So, on that note…I guess I had better start looking for a new job. I know my 9-5 isn’t going to get any better, but I don’t think I can stomach too many more run-ins with this deranged diva!

Maybe we should get her signed on to the Stand anti-smoking campaign…just a thought…

17 Comments:

At 2:53 PM, Blogger Ignatious said...

So, for those of you who cannot quit smoking…holla at me, and I’ll hook you up with this crazy broad. One 10-minute session of her bullshit, and no smoking patch in the world could cure you faster.
----

lol, too damn funny.

 
At 9:34 AM, Blogger saidy said...

OMFGod. hysterical!

 
At 10:42 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Absolutely a wounderful story. Keep up the good work.

 
At 11:16 AM, Blogger Rod said...

At least your co-workers are entertaining. Some of mine are bigot, ego tripping, assholes. Case and point. I have a screen saver showing my family pictures, most of which are my beautiful mixed girls. One of my kids has hair like her her mother's (straight), the youngest one in curls (sorry couldn't resist the Brady Bunch reference). So the asshole sees a picture of my youngest on Christmas morning without her hair combed, and says, “Her hair is kinda nappy, looks like a number 9 nap.”

After a second of silence (which during that second took every fiber of my being not to go mid-evil on his ass). I snap back with, “Did you make that up yourself or was that passed down though the generations?”. Of course there was no answer, except a giggle from another co-worker who was there. After I realized he didn't have the manhood to answer, I said, “After you think about it, you'll realize it was passed down.”
After that I just started talking about work. Because after all he is my team lead and I don't want him to think that I'm some lazy Negro.

P.S. I think I'm gonna post this on my blog too.

 
At 11:36 AM, Blogger JustMe said...

Rod--
It's funny that you would mention that example. I have a co-worker who is bi-racial, and another co-worker asked an equally dumb question based on a picture of her family. His exact words were, "You must take after your father's side, because your hair is kinky." The same fool once asked me (because I wear my hair in tiny locks) if I used to wear my hair in lots of braids and beads when I was little (he was probably likening my hair to the black girl on the Little Rascals).

Just goes to show that there are way too many idiots in the world who just don't know when to shut the hell up and not say anything at all. I hope you do post this to your blog...I'll be looking for it. Peace.

 
At 12:56 PM, Blogger Worried Boyfriend said...

ROFL! That would make me quit smoking if I had to hear crap like that! I can't get over the pubic hair out the sides of the bathingsuit. I mean THATS NEVER ATTRACTIVE! EVER!

 
At 3:09 PM, Blogger Cash Advance Man said...

I skim a lot of blogs, and so far yours is in the Top 3 of my list of favorites. I'm going to dive in and try my hand at it, so wish me luck.

It'll be in a totally different area than yours (mine is about danger of smoking) I know, it sounds strange, but it's like anything, once you learn more about it, it's pretty cool. It's mostly about danger of smoking related articles and subjects.

 
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At 4:38 AM, Blogger Hoodia said...

Help me Dude, I think I'm lost..... I was searching for Elvis and somehow ended up in your blog, but you know I'm sure I saw him in a car lot yesterday, which is really strange because the last time I saw him was in the supermarket. No honest really, he was right there in front of me, next to the steaks singing "Love me Tender". He said to me (his lip was only slightly curled) "Boy, you need to get yourself a San Diego cosmetic surgery doctor ,to fit into those blue suede shoes of yours. But Elvis said in the Ghetto nobody can afford a San Diego plastic surgery doctor. Dude I'm All Shook Up said Elvis. I think I'll have me another cheeseburger. Then I'm gonna go round and see Michael Jackson and we're gonna watch a waaaay cool make-over show featuring some Tijuana dentists on the TV in the back of my Hummer. And then he just walked out of the supermarket singing. . . "You give me love and consolation,
You give me strength to carry on " Strange day or what? :-)

 
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At 9:29 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

I skim a lot of blogs, and so far yours is in the Top 3 of my list of favorites. I'm going to dive in and try my hand at it, so wish me luck.

I've got a site you might be interested in (mine is about stop smoking patch ) I know, it sounds strange, but it's like anything, once you learn more about it, it's pretty cool. It's mostly about stop smoking patch related articles and subjects.

 
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