Let me first say, my boss is really an all around great guy.  He has gotten me two of my best jobs.  He is an excellent salesman.  And he’s one of the funniest guys I have ever met. He’s not bad as far as Frat Boys go.

He’s the kind of guy that takes his company to a popular resort town for three days. 

I write this out of admiration and for the sake of humor. 

In the past I have referred to him as Glengarry Glen Ross.  As he has been overheard quoting the movie during sales quota meetings.

“Second Prize is a set of steak knives. Third Prize you’re fired.

I have recently begun working for him again and have noticed a few of his endearing idiosyncrasies.

Two weeks ago he berated me over the speaker phone because of an issue where I had confused a client as a result of being trained with conflicting information.

He ripped into me for about seven minutes.  Set the whole tone for that crappy day (that’s for another posting).

Later that day as I spoke with coworkers they would each say something like I heard you had a bad morning? Or I heard you had an unpleasant conversation.

He did apologize the next morning.  I accepted his apology and acknowledged that he had a right to be upset with the situation. 

Last week he barked at me for not giving out correct information. Which he himself was the one who misinformed me.

Two days later he is asking me about something I was not aware of (kept out of the loop).

When I mentioned that I had not been informed of the issue he let it go without a word.

I don’t know but I am pretty sure mind reading was not listed as a skill on my resume.

Yesterday was a big frenzy.  I was deluged with issues from every where. 

Around four Glengarry calls me to ask me how things are going.

I immediately give him a detailed rundown of the day.

 He interrupts me and tells me to relax; he’s asking how I am doing and how my day is going.

Oh, you wanna make nice? 

At this point I am kind of like a dog that was scolded for something and is a little gun shy about being called over to be nice.

Umm, Okay Schizo the clown.  You’ve been repeatedly been bitching at me for reasons that were either not my fault or a result of someone else’s mistakes.

How the hell am I supposed to know that you are being nice now? 

How about we have an advisory system like Homeland Security’s?

Red- Glengarry Glen Ross

Orange- Schizophrenic (Schizo the clown)

Yellow- Mood unsure tread lightly

Blue- Caffeine buzz from café latte kicked in go ahead I’m fine

Green- Sales & Profits are up.  I’m great.  How are you?

What began as a sweet notion of sending a note professing devotion and love has now become a Whore of industry. For all industries that profit from Valentine’s Day.

Valentines Day is based partly on a legend from the Catholic Church.

A Priest named Valentinius married lovers in secret during Emperor Claudius IIs’ banning of marriage.  The Emperor found out and put Valentinius to death.

Valentinius himself sent the first “valentine” to his jailers’ daughter the night before he was put to death signed “from your valentine”

Valentine’s Day is second only to Christmas in the card sending holidays.

If you are a woman, you do it because we tend to be more sentimental then the fellas.  According to the greeting card Association’s estimate approximately one billion valentine cards are sent every year 85% of them are purchased by WOMEN.

If you are a man and you don’t buy your significant other something you will look like a heartless jackass and cheap.

Especially if all of her friends are getting something. Or your buddies are bragging about what they are getting their lovers.  Peer Pressure works quite well on this day.

If all of your friends jump off the Brooklyn Bridge would you do it? (That’s for you mom)

I walk to the beat of my own drum so to speak. Not all women are hung up on this Valentine’s Day gig.

I would much rather receive flowers on an ordinary day.  Just because.  Not because he feels he has to.

I laugh when I hear the usual “why don’t I ever have someone on Valentine’s day?”  

I want to ask is it that you feel low not receiving anything from a man or that you don’t have a man?

Because those are two separate issues sister.

How about not buying into the belief “I don’t have anyone on Valentine’s day so I must feel like a leper”

That’s so overplayed.

 I sent an update about my recent move and received an email from one of my exes. He tells me he has some news and asks me to call him. Knowing that he was probably recently engaged I figured why not call him and give him his time to shine.

What a shocker! He tells me that he's engaged.  I am genuinely happy for him.  I mean if he found a gal who's willing to put up with him more power to him. Right?

So, I am going through the usual I am so happy for you, Congratulations. Yadda Yadda Yadda....When's the wedding routine. 

He then tells me that he is sending me a picture.  How sweet is that?  He's sending me a picture of her. He must really be in love.

He is impatiently asking me to check my email while he's on the phone.   I finally get the email and open the picture expecting a blushing bride to be overjoyed with happiness.

You would think that I would remember who I am dealing with.  Being that I dated this guy seriously for quite some time.

The picture is not of his betrothed…..

 But of the ring. 

 Are you kidding me with this?  He sends me a picture of a ring instead of showing off his wife to be?

He is still on the phone impatiently asking me what I think.

 My first thought was she should be getting a bigger ring.

  I am laughing inside.  Trying not to laugh out loud being that I am still on the phone with him. 

Obviously, he's sending it to get a reaction out of me so I might as well give him one.

 I am faking oohs and ahhhs (not uncommon to be faking anything with him)

Now, I know that when gals get married they are the ones to send pictures of the ring.  Women are the ones who normally get excited over the ring. It’s a status thing I suppose.  The key into that secret sorority of married women.

A ring does not a marriage make- which you both will soon find out.

Obviously this was an attempt to make me feel like I am missing out?  

What did he think I would curl up in a ball crying my eyes out and writhing in pain and agony?

Crying out why? Why couldn't it be me?  Please no don't marry her.  I want to marry you.

Sending me a picture of the ring only reinforced my beliefs that this guy will never change and that I was lucky I got out.

Hell, he just moved out of his parents’ house a few years ago and his mother still does his grocery shopping because she lives down the road from him.

And he’s either in his late thirties or he’s hit the big 40 by now.

I asked several of my male friends what they thought because I thought ok,

maybe it's just me.  But they all laughed at this and only confirmed that it was not me.  It's still him.

I wonder how the future Mrs. Ex would feel if she knew that her beloved sends out pictures of the ring and not her?

Seriously, Mr. Ex- She’s gonna need a bigger ring.

Southern Hospitality...The Myth
Current mood: amused

I am a Jersey Girl who just spent the past six years living in Manhattan and another six in Seattle prior to that. 

Now living in the south.

I smile at everyone and they either look the other way or just walk past.  I don't have a  thick NY/NJ accent. Unless prevoked.

Sometimes when I go out shopping or even to my local coffee shop I feel people staring at me. 

Some look me up and down. As if I am going to do something awful at any moment. Or even worse- start speaking with a heavy Jersey/NY accent.

This confirmed by my friend & fellow NYer herself- who has lived in the south for five years. And experiences the same thing. So I know it's not me being a neurotic NYer.  Without even speaking people here seem to know that I am not from around here.

Is it because I don't wear Old Navy clothing?  Perhaps it's because I still have Jersey plates. Perhaps, it's because I am Italian. Look Italian.

Perhaps these people have watched one too many Sopranos episodes. 

Maybe they expect me to have Jersey hair?  Or NYC attitude and be rude to them.

Example:

I was wearing an expensive winter coat /mary tyler mooreish  and a Coach bag.  Both were Christmas gifts.  God knows I couldn't afford either- obviously if I am in a Junk store.

While going through the 25cent vintage postcards I noticed in my peripherals the woman behind the counter watching me like a hawk.

 As if at any moment I was going to pilfer her 25 cent post card and stick them in my $300 purse.

Iniside I was dying to tell her that my purse cost more than everything in her store. I hardly think I need to steal your shitty 25 cent f*ing postcards.

But I practiced some restraint. I did not want to sound like a snob.  And perpetuate the NY/NJ stereotype

To make things even more uncomfortable - my friend and I were laughing at something and this Stick up her ass Church lady was on the phone and looked straight at me while speaking into the phone & complained "I can't hear it's too loud in here". 

Now, Rudeness I expect in NYC or Jersey.  

But here I thought that people were supposed to be sweet like the sweet tea they are so fond of here.

That was just one of many incidents I have dubbed "The Southern Snub".

Example 2:

A big tobacco chewing spit to the two guys in the bar the other night....Way to keep the Redneck Stereotype alive.  Your conversation although riveting? Was ignorant and racist.  I am not a "Yankee".  I am an American. Like you? (Shudder to think)

News Flash**** the Civil war has been over for quite some time.  And...Oh, yeah, you LOST!  GET OVER IT!!!

Note of reference to those who live in the North... you will be reffered to as a Yankee if you come to the south.  "Yankees" are bottom feeders here in the south.  Even though we all reside in the same country.

 I have news for the south.                              BRACE YOURSELF.......

You see all of us Yankees moving here in droves? We have to move here because we can no longer afford the cost of living up north.

GET USED TO IT!!!      Lock up your sons and daughters.  God knows you wouldn't want them to socialize with any of us.

And one more thing...

I am done trying to be nice to you.  From now on if you are going to treat me like an outsider.  I am sure as hell gonna act like one and turn on that New York/ Jersey Charm we are so famous for.

No more thank yous unless you say it back.

No more holding doors without so much as an acknowledgement or nod.

If you let your dog shit on my lawn......... I am gonna find your house and let my dogs shit on your lawn.

If you are going to stare at me in horror, I am going to smile and say Hi with a thick New York accent and use Italian slang to express myself. Or better yet I will throw in a little yiddish just to mess with you.

Cause if you are going to stereotype me?  I am going to run with it.

 You smell that South? It's attitude and it's fresh!!!

Today my friend and I were running errands and we decided to eat.  She swore that she knew of a good Italian restaraunt that might make me feel like I was back in Jersey. 

We get there as a torrential downpour beings. Since it was a rainy day we were both dressed extremely casual- long sleeved tshirt and yoga pants.  

We walk in and Little Miss Thang tells us that they were not seating until five pm ( a twenty minute wait) in a smug manner.  As if we were bothering her.

 We go outside as two ladies ask us if the restaraunt is open. 

 We tell them that they were not seating till five. They go inside any way and did not come out.

  The "southern snub" strikes again!!!

We decide since it's raining we might as well wait and walk around the raggedy, run down strip mall and return to the restaraunt.

Walking back in  we see the two ladies that went in. Seated and being served.

Little Miss Thang tells the waiter at the podium to "seat them around behind in the corner".  Nodding her head at us. In the manner of "not these two again".

The waitress was friendly enough and we kept joking with her and decided to enjoy ourselves despite the obvious snub.

We hear all of the patrons coming in, the friendly greeting, and the usual "How many of y'all"? 

 We notice that with all those people coming in, not one party was seated in the same room as us.

When we came to the realization of what was happening I blurted out  "Nobody Puts Baby in the corner" and we both burst out laughing. 

 My friend being the stand up kinda gal that she is jokes with the waitress and makes a reference that no one is being seated in our room.

Just as we were finishing our meal a family is seated at the other end of the room. So as not to disturb the family (I'm sure).

I pay the bill and we get up to leave.

When  leaving a restaraunt  the hostess usually says thank you and have a great night. That's just good service.

 I see the staff  women turn away as we are walking by. 

 Hell if I am saying anything to these wenches and if I did open my mouth I probably would have asked them if they have to surgically remove that stick up their asses.

They were purposely not acknowledging  us as we walked by.

My friend said thank you.  Because she is a decent human being who has manners.  We paused a moment half expecting a response.

They IGNORED her. So, she  said "thank you again".  With a little more tone of voice.

 We were not leaving without  letting these "stick in the ass broads" get off that easy.

We took our stand and made it known that we were not going to be ignored (ala Glenn Close Fatal Attraction).

This was not exactly a five star restaraunt where they can get away with that sort of snobbery.

They were in no danger of Zagat's rating them.  They probably didn't  make it in the Triple A guide book.

Hell, the tablecloths were some cheap plastic covers that looked like they came out of a 99 cent store.

The food was not authentic Italian cuisine. More like  lean cuisine.

But it was the ATTITUDE that brought it's true crappiness out.