Here's a list of important things I need to discuss with you that have nothing to do with each other and/or aren't really that important:

1.) From a phone conversation I had with Tulane Chris tonight:

Meg: Chris, can I bear my soul to you for a second?

TC: Sure.

Meg: This has been such an incredibly hard summer.

TC: I know, right? But you know you're always welcome to come stay with me and take a break, right? I'm seeing Ex Co-Blogger Eddie tomorrow night, you should come!

Meg: Ugh. I have to work.

TC: So blow 'em off. Tell them you have diarrhea and can't come in.

Meg: I frequently do have diarrhea and come in. I don't think they're going to believe me if it just all of a sudden up and becomes debilitating.

TC: Seriously, don't go.

Meg: OK. I'm going to call my mom and ask.

TC: Meg, we got in trouble with your mom once for looking at vaginal dye on her computer. I don't think she's going to condone skipping work for three days.

Meg: You never know. She gets spicy sometimes.

TC: We got in trouble and we're both 25-years-old.

Meg: ...Point taken.

But, feeling adventurous, I decided to risk it and see what Diane would say if I blew off work for the rest of the week to eat pad thai on Chris' air mattress and talk about my emotions.

Meg: What would you say if I just up and went to Philly to stay with Chris and Eddie for a while?

Mom: When?

Meg: Tomorrow.

Mom: I'd say you have a doctor's appointment on Friday.

Meg: Well, yeah, but I also have work and you don't see that stopping me.

Mom: Then I'd say it's pretty obvious that you can't do that. Sorry.


And then she did. For an hour. And I gotta say: that was pretty damn therapeutic. Mostly because in that time I discovered Japanese superstar Karen Carpenter voice impersonator, Keiko Togue.
I think I'm so blown away by Keiko because when I saw her video in the suggestion links, in my own latently racist mind, I was like, "PSHHH. Asian women just giggle in high-pitched voices. She'll never be able to match the velvety rich, melodious voice of Karen Carpenter." BUT SHE TOTALLY DOES. And now my world has been rocked to the core and its 1:30 in the morning and I can't stop watching videos of her singing various Carpenters hits at across the Land of the Rising Sun's many mini-malls. It's fascinating.

After listening to Keiko cover "Superstar", all I could say to my mom was: "Keiko man; she's the shit." To which my mom responded, "No, she's a soy sauce."
And I don't know why, but that joke really hit the spot. It just completely snuck up on me. I laughed for perhaps a questionable amount of time and then finally was like, "Wooooo! OK. We can get off the phone now. I'm good. I'll live to see another day." So that's what's sustaining my life right now: Keiko man/Kikkoman, soy sauce-based wordplay. I am many things, but above all, I am an incredibly easily amused person. It's like the time at book club when someone brought up Jonathan Lethem and Laura offhandedly said, "Lethem? I hardly even knew him," and I laughed for an uncomfortable amount of time. Like, in between gasps for air, muttering about how Comedy Central should give Laura her own one-hour comedy special, long. And not to take away from Laura's comedic stylings, but "____? I hardly even knew him!" jokes aren't exactly on the cutting-edge of comedy. God forbid anyone make a "Who's on first?" joke around me while I'm eating steak. We wouldn't want to have a Story 2.0 on our hands...

2.) Speaking of racism and Asian voice impersonators, Keiko reminds me of that Japanese Louis Armstrong impersonator who went viral a few years ago:
And if you ever want to experience the most majestic thing that this planet, or any other, has to offer, I recommend you somehow get yourself to our Nation's great capital and watch Alex watch that video. Because that experience greatly outweighs the original YouTube clip in question. Because we're talking high-pitched scream/giggles, kicking the air, and a light and joy in his eyes akin only to a child descending the stairs on a snowy Christmas morn.

Not to mention how much I love Alex covering the Japanese impersonator covering Nat King Cole. It's like a photo copy of a photo copy of a photo copy that makes you piss yourself.

3.) And speaking of Alex, from our gchat conversation last night:

Alex: I leave for Tennessee tomorrowme: whatcha doing in TN?
8:59 PM Alex: visiting the fam tomorrow through Sunday
then working Monday- Wednesday
9:00 PM me: i read that "visiting the farm"
and i wasn't mad
Alex: basically the same thing
9:01 PM I just google image searched "dolly parton farm" and this is what came up:
9:02 PM Photobucket
9:04 PM Alex: if there is a god
that's what awaits me when I get off the plane tomorrow

In other news, I've decided that when I get my pug, I'm going to name him Kikkoman or Lethem, slap a blonde wig and a pair of cowboy boots on him and just sit around vomiting out of contentness all day. So there's that.

4.) I don't know if its the heat or the humidity or what, but customers at work have been real assholes recently. And it's not just me being hyper-sensitive because I have a fledgling writing career and emotions; everyone else has noticed it too. I'm going to give you a prime example.

One of my biggest pet peeves at work is when a customer comes in with an incredibly abstract question and gets pissed off when we don't know what the fuck they're talking about.

"Do you have that thing that you used to carry three years ago? You know, that guy makes them and they go over there?"

"Uh...paper sashes?"


That's my second biggest pet peeve, by the way; being referred to as a "creative type." There's a proper name for a "creative type"; it's called an "artist" or a "graphic designer". Because we went to art schools and colleges. We got degrees in completely useless fields that pay 8 broken dreams an hour, which is why we're here helping you find that thing that that guy makes and goes over there in the first place. So don't call us "creative types" in a tone that suggests we should all have Megan's Law signs in our yards. Christ.

SO! This woman saunters in, stands next to me looking confused for a few seconds, then looks over at me and says, "You can probably help me," while waving her hand in my general direction. Ma'am, I can probably go to the gym tomorrow. I can probably pay my cable bill on time. I can probably stop watching Keiko Touge videos online and go to bed. But that doesn't necessarily mean I'm going to do any of that. So you should probably ask for my help like a normal human being.

The woman then informs me that she's having a party and needs place cards for the table. Fine. I walk her over to the place card section. But she doesn't know what color cards to get. Fine. What color is the room where dinner will be? She doesn't know; it's at a restaurant where she's never been. Fine. Go with a neutral and go with God. Nope. She's got a better ideashe calls the matire'd of the restaurant, hands the phone to me (without asking if that was OK) and makes me have an in-depth conversation about the wall color so I'll know which place cards will look good. Ma'am I don't know how to tell you this in a way that doesn't result in my getting fired, but I don't give a flying fuck about your dinner, nevertheless which shade of spruce the walls are. What I care about is not channeling Saint Andre and back-slapping you from here to Pottery Barn so I can keep this job and keep helping self-entitled assholes like you to support my blog about fart jokes and emotions. That is what I care about.

But I don't say that, of course. I decide that because the walls are various shades of greens and yellows, she should go with cream or cement place cards. She finally chooses cement after 20 minutes of asking, "You think? You think? You really think?" over and over again. Yes, I really think you should go with cement place cards. I've never felt more confident about anything else in my entire life. I just had an hour long conversation with the maitre'd about everything from table size to the trim of his girlfriend's bikini wax. Just fucking pick up the cards and move on.

"Well do you have that thing I can stick it in?" Ma'am, I have plenty of things you can "stick it in." However, right now, most of the things I'm thinking of are on my physical person, so perhaps you should get more specific or we should just move on. "You know, like the things that hold the cards?" Truthfully, we don't have anything to hold place cards, so I say no. "Well, how will people know which table is which?" she asks. "Well, we have free-standing table tents that you can use to designate table numbers." "Well sweetheart, [scoffs] that's what I just asked."

First of all, don't call me "sweetheart". There is nothing sweet about my heart. My heart is bitter and tired and broken from Michael Showalter's recent engagement. Leave my heart out of this. Secondly, you did not just ask if we have table tents. Because if you had, I would have happily walked you over to the table tents and been psyched to get you the fuck out of my life that much faster. You instead asked if we have "the things that hold the cards," and I don't recall ever learning that "the things that hold the cards" = "table tents" in any of my "creative type" night classes at The Learning Annex, a-thank you very much.

"I'm sorry ma'am, I must have misunderstood you. Table tents are lovely addition to any well-dressed table and will correspond with your place cards perfectly." "Oh." And then she proceeds to grab the tents out of my hand, turn around and walk away without event a hint of a thank you. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! I just had phone sex with a maitre'd for you and took all of your shit when I don't even work on commission and you can't even muster up a simple thank you?!?!?!

All I wanted was to chase after her, grab her by the shoulders, spin her around and say this:

First of all, I realize that I don't work in the fashion industry, but I'm 99.9% sure Christian Dior doesn't actually make sunglasses with rhinestone butterflies affixed to them with hot glue. Secondly, I'm not the one who made a conscious decision to sport see-through footwear today so let's drop the "I'm a rich Georgetown housewife and you're the hired help!" act, shall we? Because I deal with rich Georgetown housewives all day and a.) they don't go out of their way to get dressed up to run errands as you embarrassingly have; they come in in tennis skirts and jaunty golf outfits because why waste energy looking good for the kind of people who are out on M street on a Monday afternoon? b.) The tacky Dooney & Burke keychain dangling from your talons clearly has a Mazda car key on it, and I'm not talking shit about MazdasLord knows one was my first carI'm just saying Ladies Who Lunch typically don't drive Proteg├ęs; c.) Again, I don't know much about fashion, but I do know that your Louis Vuitton handbag is about as real as my sentiments when I tell customers to have a great day; and d.) No real Georgetown Housewife would ever interact with me as long as you have because I have tattoos, a bad attitude and a stud in the same nose that gives me away as a big 'ole Jew. So you had your fun getting dressed up, driving into the big city and hassling the girl who straightens the place cards so you can feel important for a day, but I suggest you do one thing and one thing only: stay in your own fucking lane.

But, you know, fart jokes and emotions. That shit don't pay.

But every now and then, God hands us a little something to temporarily make things seem tolerable. Little Keiko Touges or pugs, if you will. And not 10 minutes after that woman left, I got the nicest phone call ever:

"Thank you for calling Blah Blah Blah, this is Meg speaking, how may I help you?"

"Oh! Hey Meg! My name is Mike Blah Blah Blah. You actually helped out me and my wife with DIY wedding invitations a few weeks ago? I'm sure you don't remember us, you deal with so many people everyday, but we remember you because you were so incredibly helpful and fun. The reason I'm calling today is because we want to come in to make thank you cards and we wanted to see what days you'd be around?"


But, again. Fart jokes and emotions. It works both ways. So instead I told him when I'd be around and he said they'd be in in the next week or so. But before he hung up, feeling the need to somehow convey to him how much his call meant to me, I said, "MIKE...It was really, really good talking to you today." He was like, "...Yyyyyyyyeahhhhh........K. Well. Bye, Meg."

So now in addition to blatantly offering a customer a hand job last week, a certain couple in the greater DC Metropolitan area miiiiight think I want to have a 3-way with them. And truthfully, in times like these, with compliments like those, I wouldn't hate it.


Megan said...

Holy. Shit. I watched about 15 seconds of that first clip and immediately came straight here to tell you that I am having a near-religious experience. I can't watch the whole video because it is challenging my concept of reality. Argh!

mgenese10201 said...

My Morning was sucking, and now it's not. Can always count on 2b1b. =)

Anonymous said...

After that post, my day has been made. Nothing can get me down today. Wow, you are amazing. Just splendid.

831rainier said...

I was a georgetown housewife for a few months last summer. it was fun while it lasted. i would walk by your crafty store window and then stop by Sephora. Do you get to decorate the windows? I think you should do a 2B1B theme window. They won't have to know. It can be subliminal marketing with your logo.

Katie said...

Customer service sucks hardcore. I'm sorry.

Non Sequitur Chica said...

I'm sorry that your life sucks Meg, but you just made my day with this post.

Anonymous said...

See through shoes??? I'm sorry, but is this Homecoming 1999?!

Ugh, I'm in customer service too, and I feel your pain. People are generally idiots or assholes, and often both. I get through my day fantasizing about how miserable my customers' lives must be, I mean can you imagine how horrible it would be to be the husband of plastic shoes/fake bag/mazda driver? Also, what if the highlight of your day really was picking out place cards and berating the person helping you do so?

It's not much, but it helps me keep from shoving a ball point pen through my ear drum....so, I've got that going for me, which is nice

mjf said...

Everyone needs a Compliment Mike. No one likes a Georgetown Butterfly-Sunglasses McGee. You hang in there, Meg!

lemonlemonlemon said...

The worst are the bored housewives on a budget. I worked retail for 6 years and at least the rich housewives would spend rediculous amounts of money why being bitchy. I feel your pain.

Lacey said...

Unrelated, but should make you laugh:


Jules said...

I just Googled "table tent." I had no idea that's what those things were called! The more you know...

2b1b: The sardonic voice of 20-somethings everywhere, Monday through Friday. said...

Do you get to decorate the windows?

HAH! I'm not even qualified to be a shift supervisor let alone touch teh window display. Although I did put up the wall art calendar display behind the cash wrap because I'm anal retentive and measurement obsessed enough to get that grid structure right. So, that's something at least.

Katie said...

Not to mention - what kind of Georgetown housewife is having a dinner party in a restaurant? That's what the riding coat red dining room that seats 12 in your lovely row house on P is for. And that's why you've got the caterers on speed dial.

Not that my stepmother is a G-town housewife or anything.

Kristyn said...

Ms. McBlogger, depending on whether or not you love pugs or LOVE pugs, you may be interested in this: http://www.regretsy.com/2010/07/20/nice-puggs/

Anonymous said...

I work in a office and when people treat me like "hired help" I eat their food.

Lex said...


Trish said...

I'm just saying, if I lived in the DC area I would come to your paper store and try to become your best friend, but sneakily, acting like I didn't know who you are and didn't read your blog.

Lydia said...

hang in there! you're fucking fabulous, and you enrich our lives and make them tolerable.

i've been having an awful week too, but i got a funny story out of it. just today my car wouldn't start when i was leaving for work. i ended up having to borrow my roommate's husband's truck, which is ginormous and should require a special license which i am in no way qualified for. now, i'm an uppity yankee, so imagine my joy when i realized the truck is sporting a bumper sticker of calvin (of calvin & hobbes) holding a confederate flag in one hand and flipping the bird with the other. i made quite a fucking entrance when i showed up to work at my prim and proper office today.

so yeah, it doesn't always just happen to you.

NotablyNeurotic said...

Meg, you really know how to tell a story! I was giggling this WHOLE post.

Unknown said...

I worked in retail for 5 years, it blows...love this site, not sure if all of what they are saying is legit but being from the O.C., I've been there with a few douche bags


Meg @ write meg! said...

Oh, customer service... and wannabe "ladies who lunch." Even in the scrawny Maryland suburbs, I've seen plenty of those types. Thanks for the laugh... especially regarding Mike's phone call!

Patrick said...

I worked retail for 8 years through high school and college. Would your supervisors really get pissed at you if you told a customer to treat your with more respect or to "akrite"?

If not, screw them.

You should definitely put your foot down though. If not you'll end up exploding and probably stab someone with a wedding-favor-key in the shape of a heart.

Take it from a guy who accidently drove a mechanical pallet jack through the front side of a 50 inch plasma TV while working for Best Buy. "Oops".

Emz321 said...

This was so great, and I agree with Trish

Unknown said...

meg, you do not have a jewish nose. you have your grandma kay's nose and with a name like catherine mary mcblogger, i woud say she was not jewish.

proud as always, diane blogstein mcblogger

The Kuh said...

HOLY CHRIST ON A CROISSANT! Did Meg's mom just comment? Hi Meg's mom!

C-Dub said...

Terribly saddened to report that Japanese Louis Armstrong has been removed from YouTube...I wanted to spread the word about his hilariously racist rendition of a classic song, complete with mouth-trumpeting (you can mouth-trumpet me anytime you want! ...what?), but my hopes were dashed. At least we still have farts jokes and emotions to read about.

2b1b: The sardonic voice of 20-somethings everywhere, Monday through Friday. said...


Kim said...

Youtube is blocked at work, and I had happy hour tonight with a friend I've had since K-5 (that would be 3 decades ago...I am you ten years earlier...or later, not sure which). Anyway, I have been dying to get home to see the Keoki video, and hot bologna if she doesn't sound just like ol' Karen! Thanks for always entertaining!

pook555 said...

Thank you Meg, you made my day with that post and the videos!!

If I ever have more than -$5 in my savings account and come to visit D.C., I may or may not find your paper store and come give you a hug!

Anonymous said...

After a long and shitty day the Keiko video actually made me genuinely smile. Something about listening to her Karen-like renditions soothed my soul.

Also this post made me laugh out loud multiple times. It was definitely a highlight of my day. I love the posts where you complain about the everyday annoyances that almost everyone can relate to, and you do it in an entertaining and witty way. Its both hilarious and cathartic.

JH said...

Meg, what happened to Arial 8? Now you're using Arial 10 and it's totally warping my mind. I feel like you would understand this sort of thing. I really missed your 8 and the complementary not-too-smushed leading. Did I miss some kind of font revolution here?

Evan said...

Once again, you have me laughing nearly to tears over here! You tell the sad, sad story of customer service so perfectly. You have no idea how badly I needed this post after a miserable day at work. This little blog of farts and emotions is that one thing that gets so many of us through our shitty jobs (awww...full circle!). Thanks for always being there for us.

Dan Pearce said...

Haha, love your posts. I wish I had a friend as good as to sit on the phone while I belted my sad songs playlist to them. And those videos. Life altering.

Single Dad Laughing

Leigh said...

Dying for a Jersey Shore Recrap over here. Help a sista out!

Unknown said...

on behalf of all of retail workers everywhere, specifially gtown, i thank you!

Molly Malone said...

Wow. That video just blew my mind...!

Kelly said...

ahhhh for the love of snookie, JERSEY SHORE RECRAP. Not that I didn't watch it myself last night, but come one...it's always more fun to read about the day after. kind of like leftover spaghetti is always better the second time around.

Anonymous said...

As someone that lives in Asia, all Asians do giggle in high pitched voices for a majority of the day... and maybe the night??

Erin said...

Best. Rant. Ever.

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