Saturday, March 03, 2007

Mind games

Once again, Drunken Housewife, has inspired me! If you visit her site, think soft lovely thoughts, perhaps sing a lullaby.

ANYWAY, many, many years ago I worked with a man who probably could have been crowned as King of the Passive/Aggressives. I remember three stories he told me. The first two involve cruises.

#1. He and his wife were on a cruise many years ago before it was popular among younger people, so most of the passengers were elderly. It seemed EVERYONE was curious how this young couple could afford the cruise, so he told them that they had won an all expense paid vacation, plus money just by returning a coupon in the mail.

#2 As the boat approached S.F., He was in the bar, with an Australian bar tender, who remarked about what a magnificent sight the GG bridge was. My friend, not missing a beat, says, "Yes, it's great, but it's not as wonderful as the original" He proceeded to weave a tale about how the original had come down in the "Great Quake".

#3 Before most of you were born, there was a time when gas stations were predominently full service. My friend had worked at a station during a time when the parent Company advertised that the attendant would brush the bugs out of your radiator if asked. This station had decided that it was easier to blow the bugs out with the air hose. The problem was that only the "lower" island (it was on a slope) had an air hose. One day an elderly lady drove in, and my friend heard her ask "Could you use your wiskbroom?" to which he replied cheerfully, "Just pull it down, and we'll BLOW IT OUT!" Apparently, the question had actually been, "Can I use your restroom?" The lady drove off in a huff, and wrote letters of complaint on up the chain, which caused calls to the station, which when the story was retold caused enormous entertainment. He told me this story with a straight face. I believe the story, I'm not so sure of his innocence.

1 comment:

  1. My ex-husband used to do this crap all the time! He was from Alabama & Texas, and when he lived in Boston, he convinced all his coworkers that Red Rover was a competitive league sport in the South.

    As for me: when we were dating, he told me his brother had been struck by lightning and was very traumatized by it and couldn't stand to talk about it. It wasn't for 9 years that I found out that was a lie.

    I must write about this sometime.