Thirsty Thursday

So the other day Chris and I ventured out to Dillards so he could buy a few new works suits. After trying on a few he settled on a very handsome Ari-like grey pin stripe suit that made him look extremely professional and ridiculously good looking. As the little sales man made a few tailor marks on the pant legs I went downstairs to the girls sections to look around while waiting for Chris. As I was making my way through the hideous racks of gaudy purple K State clothes I stumbled upon a very pretty creme colored pant suit. Now, I don't know if it was seeing Chris all dressed up, or the ads I had just seen in Cosmo of gorgeous business suits, but I suddenly got the urge to try on the outfit. So I found my size and headed into the dressing room. I don't know what I was thinking. Although the suit did indeed fit, when I looked in the mirror I looked exactly like the teenage version of Tom Hanks in Big after he plays the fortune teller machine for the last time and transforms back into a boy in a suit. Naturally, I was thoroughly disappointed. And then Chris called wondering where I was. I told him I was in the dressing room and he asked what section so he could come meet me. I lied and said the juniors, but he caught me because he said he was in the junior section, waiting by the dressing rooms. So then I had to admit that I was actually in the Ann Taylor section trying on business suits. So instead of buying a suit that day, I went to Journeys to buy black footy socks to wear with my Chuck Taylor "work shoes." I guess I should be thankful that my work attire is that of a 13 year old so I am not required to spend much money. Although, if someday I find myself at age thirty still wearing Chuck Taylors to work and carrying a knife kit I will need to do some serious life reevaluation. When I was little I always pictured myself to be a corporate shark somewhere wearing nice suits and heels, and having a big office with a mini fridge to keep alcohol in, overlooking some great city and having an assistant bring me coffee in the morning that is too scared to make eye contact with me. Somewhere in this dream I forgot to figure into it the fact that I really don't enjoy work/have a pretty bad work ethic. If there is a corner, I'm gonna cut it.
Sometimes I just can’t help but daydream what it might be like to work with people over the age of seventeen- or teachers under the age of sixty. For the most part though, I deal with teachers who are pretty nice. For the most part … Today for example, I called a teacher who answered her phone with a tone that sounded as if I had interrupted her during the middle of giving birth to her first born. I should note that I do realize teachers are verrrrry busy people, I am reminded of this almost daily as many NEVER return my voicemails and most typically only respond to an email after about the fifth time I send it. I am not discrediting them in anyway, I can completely understand why they are always so bogged down and stressed, what with that awful 8-3 schedule they have, and throw in the fact that sometimes they actually have to grade papers, not tests of course thanks to scan-trons. I see teachers in action all the time, hard stuff… But anyway back to my story about Ms. Bitcherson. So she answers the phone already pissed off that someone would be so rude as to think they were worth a second of her time. I go on to introduce myself and she interrupts to say,
“ya, ya I got your email, get to it.”
Um, excuse me, so you do know how to work a computer? You’re just rude and choose not to respond to me? Is that what it is?
“I’ll be in your area soon and would love to speak to your students.”
(Big exhausting sigh from her part) “Wellllll, when are you think?”
“October 12th and 13th.”
“Uh don havmycalenda wha days are those?”
“Excuse me?” I ask (nice again, still not rude at all.)
“I SAID. WHAT DAYS ARE THOSE?”
I kid you not. She was a straight up snatch, I was honestly silent for a second not sure how to respond.
“I’m sorry maam, I’m still new here and am not 100% fluent in my Topekan yet. Those dates would be a Tuesday and Wednesday.”
(Another obese sigh. Clearly this was a very intense convo for Ms. McSnatchley.)
“I dunno. I mean I’m getting ready to go on a three day vacation so I’m just very busy and occupied. But whatever, ya , sure.”
“Oh wow! Well golly gee, why didn’t you tell me you were going on a vacation!!! A three day vacation at that. No wonder you are so busy, I completely understand. Planning three entire long full days of an angenda is one tricky thing. I’m sure I could never do it. In fact , I have a good feeling you’re the only person to ever do it, actually. You take care now, and have fun in Branson.”
I ended the conversation quickly before I lost my ladylike manners and brought myself down to her level. But she was just nasty. We ended up scheduling something so I am pretty anxious to see what Madonna looks like in person and if she is as impolite.