Mama Needs a Cosmo

I used to look forward to logging into my blog and seeing that I had comments. Now, one person has come in and ruined it for me.

So, from here on out, you’ll have to take one additional step before submitting a comment to any of my posts by doing a word verification. Additionally, I’ll be requiring that all comments get e-mailed to me first before they appear on the blog.

I guess all good things must come to an end.

Aahh, yes. It’s time for “’What Into the Hell’” Wednesday!

In yesterday’s post, there was a small blurb about distracted driving. Today, I’ve decided to post about “distracted pooping.”

(For those of you with weak constitutions, consider yourselves warned.)

There are only a few activities left in my world that I consider sacred, and using the ladies room at my office—where I can shut the stall door without worry of being interrupted by my preschooler—is one of them.

I don’t think I’m asking for a lot here. Who can argue with wanting some relative peace and quiet where I can do my business and go on about my day?

And for the most part, my office restroom (a lovely three-stall facility shared with four other suites on our floor) is usually low-key. Yesterday afternoon, however, my peace and quiet was interrupted when someone blew in the door while talking on her cell phone.

What made matters worse was the fact that the person on the other end of the phone was talking so loudly that I could hear—with relative ease—everything he was saying. (Or yelling, really, because they were in the middle of an argument.)

“How come you have to act like this every time I go out with Felicia?,” the woman in the stall next to me asked.

“You lied to me. You told me that you were going to dinner with your sister.”

“I lied to you because you act all weird whenever I go out. I like to go out with my friends without you once in a while.”

“I don’t act ‘all weird’ . . .”

[Enter Cosmo Mom, thoroughly displeased with the woman’s disregard for common decency.]

I gave a long loud sigh, and, making sure she could hear me, I said:

“Are you kidding me with this?”

She interrupted her boyfriend and said, “Hang on, I’m in the bathroom.”

I thought she was going to engage me, because I knew for certain that she’d heard me. Instead, she said, “I thought someone said something to me.”

“You’re in the bathroom?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

And since they were able to resume their conversation before I could say anything else, and because I was thoroughly pissed (no pun intended) at this point, I decided to make some noise. [Here comes the nasty . . . ]

First of all, I ripped open the sanitary napkin I had in my pocket, making a loud “zipper” noise. Then I slammed the lid of the metal container hanging on the stall’s wall after I threw the old pad away. Twice. Then I flushed the toilet while crinkling the toilet lid liners. Twice.

Still, they kept talking.

But, before I could do or say anything else, she said, “Hang on again,” after which she put the phone on the floor, wiped, flushed, picked the phone back up, and said, while pulling up her pants and leaving the stall, “I just don’t understand why you don’t trust me . . . ”

I can tell her why I don’t trust her! She just took her cell phone into the bathroom, carried on what should have been a very private argument with her boyfriend, put the phone on the bathroom floor, wiped her nether regions, put that same phone back up to her ear and face, and walked out the door without washing her hands!!

WHAT INTO THE HELL?!

*Sigh.* At least I didn’t knock the phone out of her hand with my purse . . . can I consider that an improvement in behavior?

I know that yesterday was “‘What Into The Hell’ Wednesday,” but I’ve got another tick and a funny story about how I picked it off, and I couldn’t wait until next Wednesday to tell it.

My biggest pet peeve is with people who pop their gum. I’d rather eat foil and scratch my fingers down a blackboard at the same time than listen to someone pop their gum–suffice to say that it’s a sound that I loathe.

My second biggest pet peeve is with people who don’t respect my personal space. I don’t do well in the presence of a “close talker,” and don’t get me started on close-talking spitters.

Last night at the grocery store, I encountered someone who did both.

Sometimes when I’m grocery shopping without the boys, I choose to stand in the longest line for checking out. This gives me time to enjoy the opportunity of thumbing through the tabloids at a leisurely pace, without having to scream “put that down!” or “get back here!” or “I said no candy!”

But my choice to do this last night came with a price.

The woman who got in line behind me had been somewhat of a line jumper. She was in a hurry–not a good thing when most grocery stores are packed with the “after work” crowd at 6:00pm. And she picked MY line to stand and fidget and do her grumbling.

And pop her gum.

I tried to ignore it by diving into the George Clooney vs. Fabio updates, but I found myself reading the intro sentence over and over, with no retention.

Pop . . . pop . . . pop . . . And then came the cell phone call.

And while she was balancing her phone in one hand and doing whatever with the other, she managed to bump me with her basket. Hard. Four times.

OH. It was SOOO on.

The first couple of times, I used my butt to push the cart backwards. The third time, I looked back at her, but she was so engrossed in her cell phone conversation that she didn’t even see me. The last time, I gently moved the basket backwards, then stepped out from between my basket and hers, entering the “people go on this side” space and exiting the “baskets stay on that side” space. As I did this, I grabbed my purse, which also happened to be doubling as a tote bag and was filled with a bunch of items that I’d brought home from work. (I’ve got two words for you: LOADED and HEAVY.)

And as I waited for the diva behind me to get so close to me that I could feel her breath on my neck, I whipped my bag around onto my shoulder, and its forward motion knocked into her arm and forced the phone from her hand and onto the ground.

CosmoMama: 1           Gum-popping-space-invader: 0

As she gasped at me, I turned around, and with an unapologetic look on my face, I said, “Oh. I didn’t realize you were THAT close to me.”

Oohhh! Was she pissed!! But the folks behind her didn’t seem to mind my antics.

Right after my planned attack, it was my turn to check out, and by then she’d collected her phone and told whoever was on the other end that she was not very pleased with what I’d done. (Obscenities removed.)

I had to contain myself until I was inside of my car, and by then I was laughing so hysterically that I almost didn’t realize I’d put the car in reverse.

Like the title of my blog notes: I’m “trying” to take the high road, but I don’t necessarily do it all the time.

*Evil snicker*

*Speaking as calmly as possible*

Dearest readers, it’s time for “WTF Wednesday.” (Or, as my father would say, “What INTO The Hell?”)

Today, I will be openly addressing the operators of mall kiosks. I force myself to do this with love, because what I really want to do sometimes is knock them over the head with whatever product they are trying to sell me. (I will follow this letter with one to the mall management, because it is they that force us to have to deal with the mall kiosk operators.)

Dear Aggressive Mall Kiosk Operator,

My name is Fashion Paramedic. I write to you because you, and your stall mates that are large in number and spaced every 10 feet at my mall, have single-handedly stripped me of enjoying my shopping experience.

No longer can I just “go shopping.” The term “going shopping” used to put a smile on my face. Now, I have to make sure my cell phone battery is charged before I leave my house so that I can pretend to be on the phone when I pass you by. I don’t like to have to do that. I think it’s fake. But it’s a tactic that I’ve learned over the years that has proven beneficial: pretend to be on the phone, and they leave you alone.

I shouldn’t have to pretend that I’m Barry Sanders and do my famous “shake and bake camouflage” move either, which involves hurrying to the outside of a group or family so that you see them and not me, ultimately resulting in them being hassled and me doing a touchdown dance because I got by your stall unscathed.

Let me also say that you are truly shameless people. Only the most offensive of all human beings would shout “What type of cell phone plan do you have?!” to a mother who is trying to exit the mall as quickly as she can because her infant son is crying at the top of his lungs.
When I walk by Mrs. Fields, their employees don’t call out at me. The folks at Hallmark don’t chase after me with greeting cards and offer me special ornaments of the day for watching a 20 minute presentation. And yes, Victoria’s Secret does have someone at their entrance with a tray of lotions and perfumes to try, but they certainly don’t go out of their way to force it upon me as I walk in.

If I wanted a massage, I would stop at your space and ask for one. If I felt my skin needed clearing up, I would come talk to you on my own. If I wanted to try your lotion, I’d put out my hand, instead of pulling it away from you before you could grab it. And do you honestly think that following me after I’ve already turned you down once will change my mind about what you’re selling? I don’t think so. You have spoiled the mall experience, and forever branded even the more kind and less rude variety of kiosk operators who are just trying to do their job as “vermin.”

There’s a reason why I stopped going to the carnival side of the fair. I never liked the gauntlet of carnies whose job it was to hassle every person walking by to drum up business at their game. To be quite honest, the only difference between them and you is that you probably took a shower this morning and most likely have all of your teeth.

Leave me alone. I just want to go shopping.

Sincerely,
Fashion Paramedic

cc: ACME Mall Management

Now, for the letter to the management:

Dear ACME Mall Management,

I write to you today to let you know that I will be posting a story to my blog about the kiosk operators at your mall.

Many are rude, disrespectful, and a few are downright aggressive. I don’t like having to go out of my way to avoid them, but I do.

I used to come in at the north entrance, and use the escalators to go to the lower level of the mall. Now, I come in from the west, enter through a chain store, and use the elevator at the back of their store to go between each level of the mall.

I now have to pretend to be on the phone when I enter your mall’s main area, where most of the kiosks are located. If I also do not keep my head down while I do this, some of your more aggressive vendors will call out at me. However, while using this “tactic” to avoid being hassled, I sometimes lose sight of where I am, and have to back track to the store I had intended to visit.

Over the past three years, I’ve seen the kiosks in your mall grown in numbers. No doubt, they contribute to your bottom line. I’ve read that mall operators like the “festival atmosphere” that kiosks bring to the mall, but what you’re really creating is a carnival atmosphere, complete with carnies who shout out at passers by to get them to come to their booth.

I’ve been able to avoid carnies by not going to the carnival side of a fair. But when I am at the mall, I’m a captive audience. I have to use the main area to get from one store to another, turning what used to be a casual stroll into a trap.

I’m sure that you’ve never experienced this yourself. Of course you wouldn’t—you probably wear a suit and a nametag that screams “I’m with mall management,” and the vendors wouldn’t ever dream of hawking at you. But I dare you to put on some street clothes, pull a hat low over your brow, and take a walk through the common area. You’ll experience what it’s really like to try to go shopping at your own mall.

Those of us who are fed up to the core and will no longer use your mall are small in number. We will undoubtedly make little to no impact on your holiday revenue. But, the more kiosks you bring in, and the more aggressive the operators get, the more likely you will lose more customers. And, with the holidays fast approaching, you should also probably take into consideration this formula:

Internet + free holiday shipping + no aggressive kiosk operators = happy customers

Start policing your kiosk operators before they drive the rest of your business to Amazon.com (and before someone gets hurt). Those are both valid threats. I haven’t hurt anyone, but I’ve definitely made the decision to not shop at your mall anymore. This is sad, considering there are other vendors at your mall that are pleasant and helpful and just trying to do their job. Those are the ones that have to pay the price for my decision to go elsewhere.

Sincerely,
Fashion Paramedic