Mullet Over
BY STEELE CODDINGTON | MARCH 16, 2011
Gender news
A recent question asked of Miss Manners in her etiquette column takes the cake for how far you should go in the name of good manners. A woman using a toilet stall in a public restroom wanted to know the proper etiquette if a woman in the next stall is talking on a cell phone. She asked, “When you have finished your ‘business,’ is it proper to flush or wait until the lady in the next stall ends her phone conversation?” My advice would have been to lean under the partition and loudly ask, “May I borrow your cell phone? I’m out of toilet paper.” Miss Manners politely answers, “Ask yourself which is the proper business in that location?” In short, the answer was, “flush!” – like the Tea Party did to Democrats in Congress.
On the fashion front, the purse is big news. What size and what’s in it is supposed to tell you a lot about a woman. Size preference these days is “huge.” Doctors are worried and attribute most female back problems to purse strain. Too many women now have a permanent left or right tilt like the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Osteopaths have diagnosed it as Perverse Pisa Purse Posture Syndrome – PPPPS or Fourpees.
But it’s what is IN the purse that defines a woman. My wife admits only to a few things, the rest is none of my business – cell phone, car keys and 20 pounds of other keys, wallet, check book, change purse (another 20 pounds) and cigars. “Cigars?” I asked. “Yeah, every once in a while I like a little smoke.” So in addition to NEVER opening your wife’s purse, it’s equally stupid to ask what’s in it.
But I did ask my grandmother. She was quite private about the contents, but did admit to a new Glock 17 and some cigars. Now, I know where my wife got the cigar habit, but why the new Glock? “Well, my old automatic was like a government employee union member – it didn’t work and I couldn’t fire it.” Besides that she said, “You never know when some stupid criminal will make a big mistake and find himself in my cross hairs.” My only retort was, “Good Grief Grannie,” in total disbelief.
Auntie Millie, Grandma’s friend down the street is another 85 year old with strange contents in her purse. “I carry the usual junk – (too long to list here) – but also a pair of running shoes and a 38C bra in case my 36B snaps off.” I knew shouldn’t have asked, “Snaps off? How in the world would that happen?” She explained, “Well, I’ve been taking yoga classes and breathing deeply in and out and mentally imagining bigger and better things in life, and the old 36B is on its last legs … er whatever.” OK, I got the picture, unfortunately.
Gee, cell phones in the loo, purses with crazy stuff, cigars, Glocks, bras – “Good Grief Grannie,” I’m glad I never stuck my hand in one of the damned things.
Curtain rods
On the first day "after her divorce," she sadly packed her belongings into boxes, crates and suitcases.
On the second day, she had the movers come and collect her things.
On the third day, she sat down for the last time at the beautiful dining-room table, by candle-light, put on soft background music, and feasted on a pound of shrimp, a jar of caviar and a bottle of spring-water.
When she'd finished, she went into every room and deposited a few half-eaten shrimps dipped in caviar into the hollow center of the curtain rods, cleaned up the kitchen and left.
On the fourth day, the husband came back with his new girlfriend. At first all was bliss.
Then, slowly, the house began to smell.
They tried everything, cleaning, mopping, and airing out the place.
Vents were checked for dead rodents, carpets were cleaned and air fresheners were hung.
Exterminators were brought in. They even paid to replace the carpeting. Nothing worked!
People stopped coming over to visit. Repairmen refused to work in the house. The maid quit.
Finally, they couldn't take it any longer and decided to move. A month later - even though they'd cut their price in half - they couldn't find a buyer.
Word got out, and the realtors refused to return their calls.
Finally, they had to borrow a huge sum to purchase a new place.
Then the ex-wife called and asked how things were going. He told her the saga of the rotting house. She listened politely and said she missed her old home and would be willing to reduce her divorce settlement in exchange for having the house.
Knowing she could have no idea how bad the smell was, he agreed on a price one tenth of the value of the house ... but only if she would sign the papers that very day.
She agreed. Within two hours his lawyers delivered the completed paperwork.
A week later the man and his girlfriend stood smiling as they watched the moving company pack everything to take to their new home ...
And to spite the ex-wife, they even took the curtain rods!
