I'm due on Dec 28th.
It's a boy.
If you have anything to say to me
other than "Congratulations" or Good Luck"
Keep it to yourself
It's a boy.
If you have anything to say to me
other than "Congratulations" or Good Luck"
Keep it to yourself
Now, I should explain. The woman who is the manager of the club and sits in the office behind the front desk, has in the years I have been a member of the club, gone from callow flirtatious girl, to moonstruck newly-betrothed, to starry-eyed young bride, and on to her latest incarnation - cantankerous shrew swollen with child.
I have never made the acquaintance of this young woman, and if asked could not tell you her name. And that's not because I had anything against her, but when I go to the health club it's for one purpose - to work out.
I say this only to point out that I have no previous knowledge of the woman's mental state. I don't know what the trigger was for this clearly egregious example of churlishness. Was she a sweet and loving young girl who was pushed to her limits and beyond, by the demands of marriage? Or did she find herself pregnant soon after the wedding, dashing her plans of years of wedded bliss unspoiled by the arrival of a mewling, puking child? Or was the job of sitting behind the counter and explaining membership details to a unappreciative clientele so taxing that she just snapped?
Or, horror of horrors, was she so beset by the killing solicitousness of members who ask the most inappropriate questions? Are you gaining weight? Do you have any morning sickness at all? What color are you doing the nursery in? Do you know the sex of the child? What are you hoping for?
What earthly reason could there be for this extraordinary display of bad humor?
Whatever the reason, I can't think of one that justifies emblazoning your rudeness for all to see. If I had given the woman any thought previously, this certainly would cause me to think the worst of her now.
As I walked back out after my work-out, I saw another sign that she had pasted on the back of her computer monitor.
I have never made the acquaintance of this young woman, and if asked could not tell you her name. And that's not because I had anything against her, but when I go to the health club it's for one purpose - to work out.
I say this only to point out that I have no previous knowledge of the woman's mental state. I don't know what the trigger was for this clearly egregious example of churlishness. Was she a sweet and loving young girl who was pushed to her limits and beyond, by the demands of marriage? Or did she find herself pregnant soon after the wedding, dashing her plans of years of wedded bliss unspoiled by the arrival of a mewling, puking child? Or was the job of sitting behind the counter and explaining membership details to a unappreciative clientele so taxing that she just snapped?
Or, horror of horrors, was she so beset by the killing solicitousness of members who ask the most inappropriate questions? Are you gaining weight? Do you have any morning sickness at all? What color are you doing the nursery in? Do you know the sex of the child? What are you hoping for?
What earthly reason could there be for this extraordinary display of bad humor?
Whatever the reason, I can't think of one that justifies emblazoning your rudeness for all to see. If I had given the woman any thought previously, this certainly would cause me to think the worst of her now.
As I walked back out after my work-out, I saw another sign that she had pasted on the back of her computer monitor.
A fit woman
is a
powerful woman
is a
powerful woman
It was an effort of will to not run in and change "fit" to "gracious" on the sign. Perhaps I should have done, but what good would that do?
Changing the sign would have done nothing to change the poor charmless wretch.
Changing the sign would have done nothing to change the poor charmless wretch.
1 comment:
I always found the chick at Flatirons rather cantankerous and ill tempered.
I don't think anything has changed between the time she got married and delightfully hung badly drawn crayon drawings on her wall, and the point at which she decided to be a total bitch.
You didn't hear that from me, though.
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