Crap day at the office

We went out last night-dancing in the city for a friend’s birthday party that kicked off at 9pm, and we were toast by 12:30am. It’s not that we’re so old that we can’t stay out late, but our kids wake up at the crack of ass no matter what time Mom & Mommy stumble home. Missing the party was not an option. In addition to the fact that we could not possibly miss this friend’s celebration, we had to walk the talk and prove that we really DO take advantage of New York City even though we are bridge & tunnel moms.

Spending time in Manhattan has become even more of a priority since I started working in Jersey. I have now come face to face with the real Jerseyans. These are the people who do not make any excuses for living here as we occasionally do. They love it here and what’s more, they have little to no desire to traipse into New York City for dancing or theatre or museums or shopping or any other cultural activity that is most likely in their very own state. I should say our very own state. You see? 3 ½ years in, and I can’t admit that this is my state, too.

It’s the water cooler talk at the office that reminds me that I’ll never really be a Jerseyan. Last week, my colleagues, Ernie & Bert (for lack of better aliases) were discussing the entertainment world-a subject that normally pleases me.

Ernie: The fun is over on American Idol. Ellen’s on tonight.

Burt: Too bad. I just don’t get it with her. She’s not funny!

E: I know what you mean. My wife thinks she’s hilarious, and I have no idea what she’s talking about. I’ll tell you the only good role she ever played was Dory in Finding Nemo-maybe because I didn’t have to look at her flinching while she talks. Seriously, I can’t stand to even look at her.

B: Just keep swimming. Just keep swimming.


E: But I don’t think she’s funny in anything else she’s ever done. That guy who played Nemo’s dad, Marlin? He was perfect for that role. Albert um...

B: Albert Brooks? From Broadcast News?

E: That’s the one. I don’t like him. He’s always so nervous and jittery. Not funny. Kind of like Woody Allen, you know? All anxious. Is that acting?

I know you’re thinking what I’m thinking. Wouldn’t it have been funny if I had said what we’re both thinking out loud? Well, I did.

Deborah: You’re killing me people! First you hate on Ellen because she’s not a train wreck with a low-cut top like Paula Abdul. And then you go after the Jews. Albert Brooks and Woody Allen? You just hate Jews. It’s ok. My people are used to it.

Ernie and Bert laughed. At least they understood that it was a joke...coming from a history of deep pain, of course.

Truth be told, I’ve never been a huge fan of Woody Allen’s work or personal comportment, but insulting him is like insulting my mother. Ok, bad example. It’s like insulting someone else’s mother. No matter how much trash a person talks about his / her mom, you’d better keep your thoughts to yourself.

There was no talking to these people. I had to call my sister. She loves Ellen more than I do.

Deborah: Rachel, my co-workers hate Ellen.

Rachel: WHAAAAAAAT?!? What kind of hell-ho....RON!! RON!! Do you know what kind of hell-hole Deborah’s work is? They don’t like Ellen!! Deborah, when are you quitting?

D: What? And leave WTF.com? Don’t be ridiculous. Why, I can’t imagine a more enlightening or intellectually stimulating job as this. Just this afternoon, after excusing myself from the gay bashing anti-Semites, I made some sales calls over lunch.

This is when I weasel my way into the offices of anyone in the area who wants to buy a hairbrush. No, not really a hairbrush, but I can’t really give away too many details about my job lest the WTF.com alias is stripped away like a cheap prom dress. Suffice it to say that I call on a number of different companies who are not always keen to chat let alone schedule a visit.

R: Uh huh.

D: Like this afternoon when I called on a doctor who performs colonics. You know the procedure where you get flushed out the back door.

R: Ew.

D: And I said, ‘Hey Dr. Enema!’ That’s not really his name.

R: I got that.

D: ‘Let’s schedule an appointment. Can we find some time this week or next?’ and Dr. Enema said, 'Now’s not a great time. I just need to, well, clean something up.'

R: Oh no he didn’t!

D: Oh yes he did. I’m working in a rundown dump of a building in the heart of The City of the Great Unwashed surrounded by a limited people who hate lesbians and Jews. And on top of all that, I’ll never look at lentil soup in the same way again.

R: Ew.

D: Double ew....as in Double-ew T F.com! Get it?

R: You’re not as funny as Ellen. I’m going now.

D: Bye.