Showing posts with label suffering fools. Show all posts
Showing posts with label suffering fools. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Be not my future daughter-in-law

A few days ago I popped into a spa I love for a facial. The spa is in Buckhead, a lovely community in Atlanta.

My regular girl was out so I had someone new. Fine. It's good to mix it up a bit a times. This lovely girl seats me in the spa chair for pre-treatment foot scrub and we begin to chat. I feel the need to apologize in advance because JohnnyMac and I went out the night before to Northside Tavern, a filthy, dirty blues bar (with fabulous music). One of the last places that people can smoke indoors in this city apparently and the other barcrawlers were certainly taking full advantage of the Smoke It Up Zone and were puff, puff, puffing away like this would be there last pack of cigs. Ever.

As a result, my long locks absorbed every exhaled breath of carbon monoxide. I didn't want her to think me a wretched girl with dirty smoky hair so I relayed the tale.

She asked where Northside Tavern is and I said Midtown at 10th and Howell Mill.

I asked if she knew where that was and she said, "No, I live in the city."

"Which city?" I ask.

"Buckhead," she replies.

Buckhead is not a city. It's a sector within the city of Atlanta. Just like Midtown. They are 5 miles apart. She is about 25. How does she not know this? Oh, it occurs to me she is not from Atlanta or Georgia and may simply be confused.

(Author's note: This would be equivalent to saying you are from the city of Little Italy and don't know where Tribeca is located.)

In the nicest voice possible, I tell her Midtown and Buckhead are both in the city of Atlanta. She says "Oh. I am not good with directions."

"Where are you from?" I ask, assuming she is from a distant state.

"I am from Tinytown, Georgia. Do you know where that is?"

No.

She says, "Do you know where Macon is?"
Yes, I do. Macon is about an hour south of Atlanta.

She says, "Ok. Well, its an hour north of Macon."

Which would be Atlanta.

I try not to make let my facial expression demonstrate my dismay although I have clearly shared I struggle if required to maintain a Poker Face. But I merely tilt my head and wait for more. Nothing comes. I say, "I think an hour north of Macon would be Atlanta."

"Oh.... giggle I meant the other North."

What other NORTH is there? Tell me more Stephen Hawking.

This isn't my co-worker or someone I am hiring to be our nanny, so I just keep the conversation moving. She tells me about her family and all of her siblings. Two live in Vegas. I ask what they do in Vegas. She said, "They work for the United States."

The United States Treasury? Post Office? I have never heard someone categorize their employment this way and perhaps I will learn something new.

"The United States.....????" I ask

"Air Force." Ahh. Ok. No more talking necessary.

While I think about our conversation I get a frightening vignette of a dinner 20 years from now and what I will do if my son brings home a girl like this. Cute as a button and the same IQ.
My future and hopefully never fulfilled vision was this:

All at dinner table. JohnnyMac says, "CNN had a story on today about..."
Girl my son brought home: Who is Siennenn? "

Me: GULP, GULP, GULP. Oh look who finished all their wine! Excuse me. I just need to step outside and take a cyanide tablet.

Sidebar: Once, in dealing with a complicated situation made complicated only by someone's sheer idiocy, I tell my Boss that perhaps I don't have enough patience. His response is that I am quite patient (at work I am. And with my son. All others? Beware.) but I don't suffer fools well. (e.g. I don't like stupidity).

I sit in silence to determine if context of his statement is positive or negative.

He followed up with "And there are just so damn many fools."

Perfect. And true.

And since our son is only two, I can't yet predict who he will date. I already told you he likes Scarlett Johannson but I can not attest to her IQ. Perhaps he will someday bring home someone a bit soft in the brain. I hope I have plenty of vino or vodka on hand. It's not out of the question right? I know hoardes of highly intelligent men who have done this. And some have even married them. Reasons why? I can't say. I can only hope that a girl like the one I met today has a different soulmate in store. And pray this "type" is not even a remote semblance of my future daughter-in-law.