Passing the Torch

When bitching becomes a full time job, all I've got to say is, "I'm hired!"

Someone after all has got to point out where everyone on this planet is going wrong... From the waitress who never bothers to take your order fifteen minutes after you've been seated, to the moronic check out girl who cocks you the one second finger gesture in order to answer her cell phone be-bopping from her back pocket rather than wait on you, the customer.

Far be it for me to be the bearer of bad news but the absolute truth is that the days of good old fashioned customer service with a smile have long since left us with a poor imitation of what it actually is to what it ought to and damn well should be.

The thing is blaming the small fry who forgot your small fries or giving a brief and yet well punctuated lecture to the unsuspecting perpetrator of a really crummy service crime isn't nearly enough. Complaining on any level has to be taken to the top where the response to your plea garners far more than complete indifference followed by mindless eye rolling. At least you hope it does...

Unfortunately my daughter doesn't quite yet agree that situations such as these should be dealt with head on. Her idea of beating bad service is to slink out quietly without a fuss and say nothing. And though I could have once seen her point, I am far too much like my Mother to let these little things go without so much as a how do you do... Proof positive that with age not only comes wisdom and maturity but also the ability to bitch with good reason.

I consider it a skill... A life learning lesson between what's right and what's wrong and when it's wrong, I like people to know about it. After all if no one puts Baby in a corner, than Stacey (this would be me speaking of myself in third person and therefore the ultimate sign of I've got my own issues here to deal with) isn't going to sit quietly in the corner either.

And that's exactly where I was a few weeks ago when KC and I decided to go out on a Friday night for a little Mother/Daughter bonding over dinner made by someone else. Daughter's choice brought us to a local place just down the road a wee bit from where we live, a place that for the sake of this particular story I will call Carmen's where we walked in at precisely five o'clock and walked right back out of fifteen minutes later after we were literally seated and then completely forgotten about.

To know me is to know two things... (1)I've little patience for complete and utter stupidity and (2)Patience is one of those virtues I just don't have. And when my patience has been pricked, it normally results in a verbal mudslide either eloquently put or right down and dirty going after you with an ice pick precision of let me pour it on until you can't take it anymore, listen to me I've got something to say bitch session.

True to form it didn't take me long to get irritated by being ignored. After five minutes of mindless waiting, KC was well aware that dinner as planned wasn't going to be a smooth and easy affair. She tried making up her own set of excuses, "Wow. They're really busy in here," she said, looking around as if the cluster of we're just here for happy hour people constituted a great rush on the dining room's waitstaff. Meanwhile I eyeballed not one, but four waitresses standing around watching each other stand around. I was not happy...

I was not happy five minutes later whilst I was still waiting for someone to remember us, sitting there waiting without even a drink to wet our whistles let alone take our order... I eyeballed my cell phone, noting the time...

Speaking of time... Let me pause here to say, I'm going to have to part two you on this little event as it is now 11:20 (also known as my "special time") and my need to go to bed has far surpassed my need to finish this story... At least at the present time.

I know this is a bit weird to come out of the blue like this when things were just starting to sum themselves up quite nicely, but as in life, one must deal with the hand their dealt...

Tune in tomorrow, as I assure you that yes, there will be more...

Proud To Be A Democrat (Win or Lose)

I know... I know... I'm a bad little non-blogging blogger... But even so, you had to know I'd be around tonight watching my TV as if my eyes were glued to the screen with my fingers crossed and my heart hoping that the future of our country is about to change...

Change for the better that is...

So if I wake up tomorrow morning and I hear that Senator Obama will indeed become President Obama, I'm going to be one happy woman... On the flip side of the coin, if I hear McCain took the prize, I'm going to throw the covers back over my head, cover my face with a pillow (maybe even two) and scream like no one has ever heard a woman scream before...

That however is not something I want to even contemplate for too long... After all, I've been constantly reminded for the last eight years what's it like to have a republican at the helm... (Not that they're all bad... They're just not democrats!)