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Tossed Salad Friday

~~ Judgment is rampant in Dementia-ville this week. The current aide peers over the top of her glasses and evaluates your worthiness (and culpability) in and about all sorts of actual and perceived tribulations. I do not measure up in any way.

~~ The noise from one of Assessor Aide’s phone conversations was so loud that I couldn’t get work done three rooms away. I asked her to take the conversation off speaker and she looked down her nose and scoffed, “This is my workplace and I am the boss here.” Proud of myself for neither blowing up nor mocking the person she was chatting with about sounding like Betty Boop on helium, I simply stated, “This. Is. My. House.” I dramatically spun on my heels and closed the door forcefully on my way out. Then I obsessively ate a still frozen black bean brownie, washing it down with my own bitter tears.

~~ The yoga teacher tells everyone to relax as we do a forward bend. “Surrender to gravity,” she coaxed. However, as gravity has already conquered every square inch of my body, I just laughed.

~~ She was telling me how she’s found her soul mate, then added that it was “much easier” for her than it probably was for me. Why? “You know, you care about sports and politics, and I don’t.” Oh, I see. If she thinks compatibility or complacency on those two flash points is all that makes or breaks a marriage, she’s in for a rude awakening when her intended partner wants to watch something infuriating on TV, loses the cap to the toothpaste, or suddenly remembers a really important thing to tell her, six days after the important thing occurred.

~~ We were dining out last week, and a bachelorette party was seated in between our table and the rest rooms. At one point, I paid a visit to the teeny ladies room. While I was occupied, a woman came in, speaking loudly on her phone about how she “hated” all the other bridesmaids. Someone stayed home because her in-utero baby was kicking too much, therefore leaving Ms. Loud Talker with no one to hang. “Kimmie won’t talk to me and on my other side is [I couldn’t make out the name] who is a real bitch,” she exclaimed.

I needed to use the sink, but the complainer was in my way. I stood as patiently as I could, giving that universal signal of outstretched hands to indicate my need to wash up, but the petulance continued. “And I hate this restaurant because it’s so loud out there.” I met this whine with a growled, “It’s loud in here, too,” and immediately drew Crabbycakes’ ire. “Piece of shit” was the kindest words she called me as she begrudgingly angled away from the sink.

Leaving the bathroom, I came thisclose to stopping by to chat with the giddy bridesmaids and bride. “You know the woman in the flowered dress? She hates you all! And who’s Kimmie? You? Then you, on the other side of the empty chair, please know that the flower dressed monster thinks you’re a bitch. Happy wedding!”

I didn’t do it. But, honestly, I kind of regret not doing it.

~~ I had an opportunity to go flying with stunt pilots yesterday. Yes, it’s everything you think it would be.


~~ Some stunt planes are called “vomit comets,” and that leads me right into this week’s memes:

Dasvidaniya. Have a great weekend, stopping to give thanks for those who gave all for the country we are trying to save.
LET’S GO METS!

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