aging, comedy, customer service, Dining, holiday, Humor, vacation, women

There was a lot of Pretending

While traveling for the Thanksgiving holiday, I stayed at a hotel and ate in the dining room. Little did I know there would be a lot of pretending.

Upon arrival in the dining area there was not a soul in sight.  I knew that meant things were not going to go well but I didn’t want to get back in the car after just getting out.  I told myself it would get better, but myself was skeptical and so was my husband who searched for someone to wait on us. When he finally summoned the waitress from the breakroom she pretended she had been watching for customers but that we “snuck through.” Hmmm, there was no snuck through involved. We walked right across the main lobby in plain sight.  Oh and by the way, is it still okay to use the word waitress?  I often hear the hostess tell me who my server will be so I’m thinking waitress might be a no-no. Actually, now that I think about it, hostess also could be a problem.

Anyway, back to the real story.  Following protocol, the waitress brought drinks and asked for our order.  I said, “I’ll have the tomato basil soup and a”…I was immediately cut off. “We are out of soup,” said the waitress. Yes, I know what you’re thinking and you’re right-it fits perfectly here.  So let’s pause for a snicker and move on.

As I sat there with no soup for you and recognized that once again I had found the flaw, I drank all my water and was ready for more. Of course, the waitress was nowhere to be found.  She told us to let her know if we needed anything, which is pretty hard to do when we can’t find her.  I think they teach that in waitress school-make it sound like you’ll be nearby but then go and hide so nobody can ask for anything.  When it’s been awhile and you know the customer is pissed, walk over to the table and pretend you’ve been around the whole time.  Our waitress must have gotten an A in that class because when she finally showed up with the water pitcher she pretended that I had just taken the last sip.  She smiled and told me she was gonna help me out and “feel me up.” Oh, my mistake, “fill me up.”

Next came bill time.  Wanna guess what happened?  Go ahead, you can do it and I know you’ll get it right-She was nowhere to be found. We sat, and sat, and sat, and when she knew we were pissed she walked over to the table pretending she was nearby the whole time.  She put the bill on the table-right in a puddle of salad dressing.  Smiling and knowing full well what she had done, she pretended she didn’t and walked away.

I know, I’m being hard on someone who probably isn’t paid well and has to pretend she cares about serving weary travelers who want soup, expect water refills, and need a bill so they can pay it.  So, the next time I travel, I’m gonna pretend to go to the hotel dining room, but I’m really gonna eat somewhere else.

Thanks for following my #FabulouslyFunny stories and always remember to #ShareTheLaughter

Eliza G.

 

 

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aging, holiday, Humor, vacation, women

The Day After

After what I ate while giving thanks yesterday I am spending today giving my new activity tracker a workout.  That’s a lie.  I’m not being active today.  I hit a step goal and am willing to incur a few penalties for inactivity over the remainder of the day. I could do a few other things on this, the day after.

The day after Thanksgiving is always a lazy day. A lot of people go shopping but since I’m not a shopper the other 364 days of the year there’s no reason to venture out on the day after.  I could go, but there’s nothing I need that bad.  Shopping on the day after is a pretty, pretty, pretty bad idea.

I could go disobey, which really isn’t a bad idea. I like to disobey. It doesn’t require much effort aside from getting to the place where they permit me to disobey. Lifting a hammered copper Moscow mule mug requires little effort-even if I do it multiple times in an hour. Disobeying on the day after sounds like a pretty, pretty, pretty good idea.

I could also practice a new magic trick that I’m learning. The turkey and stuffing I ate yesterday might make levitating a little more challenging, but I’m willing to give it a try. I’ll just kick back, relax, and let levity do its job as I lift one stein and then another. Levitating on the day after sounds like a pretty, pretty, pretty good idea.

Yes, it’s the day after and I really don’t need to do anything besides incur activity penalties. I’m not going shopping, but I would disobey or levitate. Actually, I could do both, which could make the day after the day after pretty, pretty, pretty interesting.

Thanks for following #MyFruitoftheWomb !

Eliza G.

aging, family, Friends, holiday, Humor, introvert, women, work

For That, I am Thankful

I’ve heard people say that they like to look at the sunny side of life. I’m not that optimistic.  Instead, I like to laugh so I look at the funny side. The reality is, there are a lot of funny things that happen in everyday life…if you just look. Trust me, I looked a lot over the past 8 months and had many laughs in the process.  In fact, today, I’m sharing my 70th story about the funny things that happened in my life. And just so ya know, I am thankful for every one of them.

By choice, I don’t have a lot of friends.  I believe in quality rather than quantity in most things in life-including roses. I guess you could say the older I get, the wiser I become. My friends and loyal followers read my stories even when they don’t find them funny.  Well, at least they appear to be following and reading them and for that, I am thankful.

Also by choice, I have a job where I make a difference. Well, at least I think I make a difference-even for those who can’t keep up. The downside is that I encounter a lot of people at work who act high schoolerish and others who fuss when Grandma gets run over by a reindeer, but I have a job, and for that, I am thankful.

Partially by choice, I have a family that includes members who murmur, others who read every story, Kristi M. who always has a quick comeback, and my fabulously funny editor who takes the time to share the laughter before anybody else has a chance to do so.  For all of them, I am thankful.

Not by choice, I have the ability to shuffle. Sure, it’s fully by choice that I actually go out and pretend to run while almost falling over Willy, being outpaced by a dog on a jog, and acting tree-huggerish, but I’ve been blessed with good health and for that, I am thankful.

Lastly, and fully by the grace of God, when all the funny stories come together, I have a life that’s good and for that, I am thankful.

Wishing you many fabulously funny stories from around the Thanksgiving table and a life that’s good.  Cheers!

Eliza G.

aging, comedy, Food, Health, holiday, Humor, women

A Few Steps Forward-A Few Steps Back

My birthday was this week.  I got some presents that will help to solve problems I’ve had over the past couple months and others that actually caused me problems on my special day.

I was an avid fitness tracker for about 3 years.  As many of you know, my tracker suddenly quit syncing about 3 months ago and the company basically told me to #JustStayFat.  Well, they didn’t actually say that, but they weren’t interested in solving my syncing problem.  I showed them. I got a brand new tracker from another company.  I tested my Garmin out this morning and so far it seems to be working good. I’ll keep you posted but for now, it seems that I no longer have an excuse to #JustStayFat.  I guess that’s a little disappointing given that Thanksgiving is next week and Christmas is in December-yes, Christmas is in December-and both involve activities that will require me to take more steps to avoid #JustGettingFatter.

As many of you also know, back in October I ordered a cake with ten roses on it for a family member’s birthday and the cake came with nine. I never found the missing rose, but the problem on my special day made me realize that quality might be more important than quantity when I comes to icing roses.

The cake orderer of my party cake told Ann, who proudly proclaimed herself as the bakery manager and cake maker, the kind of cake and decorations he wanted: a white cake decorated with ten fall-colored roses made from sugar icing and white trim around the bottom also made from sugar icing.  Those were his orders, not mine. I’m not particular about the trim around the bottom but I do like sugary icing, especially when I can feel the sugar crystals between my teeth when I bite into it.  Now you know why I am an avid fitness tracker.

So about now, my loyal followers are on the edge of their seats wondering what happened with the cake.  Well, it had ten roses, so we took a few steps forward there, and they were in fall colors, including yellow, orange, red, and brown. The trim around the bottom of the cake also brown, so we took a few steps back.  Brown is an interesting color choice for a birthday cake and I was willing to let it go, and so was the cake orderer-until we ate it.  It wasn’t just brown, it was chocolate.  Now, one of my absolute favorite treats is a chocolate Hershey Kiss smothered in creamy peanut butter so I’m all about chocolate-but NOT on my white party cake.  Chocolate icing is something you order, not something Ann should just randomly give out to anybody she wants.  It’s chocolate and it totally changes the taste of white party cake. So after eating one brown rose I decided the other two had to go and so did the trim.  And that’s when I realized that fewer roses made from quality sugar icing that feels good between my teeth is more important than more roses made of chocolate icing.  I know, either way it’s a lot of sugar.  But the good thing is, all that sugar is gonna help me break in my new fitness tracker.

Thanks for following My Fruit of the Womb on WordPress. Be sure to #ShareTheLaugher through #FabulouslyFunny stories!

Eliza G.

1980s, comedy, customer service, Dining, Food, Humor, women

Size Matters

I went to Subway the other day and while there, I was thrown for a loop.  As I think about it, ‘thrown for a loop’ is a funny saying.  I wonder who came up with that? I guess it really doesn’t matter who coined the phrase, which is another funny saying, because what does matter is that I was confused and I shouldn’t be when I go to Subway.

I used to live in a very rural area of the country so I didn’t see my first ‘pick your meat’ hoagie shop until I was in my 20s, which was about 20 years after Subway started.  Yes, I was a little behind the times, which is another funny saying, but I didn’t know, so it didn’t bother me.  Sometimes it’s good to be behind because things are less complicated.  Like instead of picking my meat, cheese, toppings, and dressings, I got whatever the cheerleaders put on my hoagie at 6AM that morning when they made it for their fundraiser.  Life was simple then. If you didn’t want cheese, you picked it off and gave it to someone who did. If you didn’t want lettuce, you used your finger to scrape it off into the garbage can.  It was a hoagie unmade to order and that was perfectly fine.

Which brings me to my recent visit to Subway.  I got in line below the correct sign; the one that read “Place order here.”  While waiting, I rehearsed everything I wanted to say.  I do that to help out the worker-the worker who has to ask the same questions over and over again throughout the entire workday.  What kind of sub do you want?  What kind of bread?  What size? Do you want cheese on it?  What kind of cheese do you want?  Do you want it toasted?  What else do you want on it? Do you want any dressings?  Do you want a drink?  Cookies?  Chips?  Is that debit or credit?

Yes, you can tell that I’ve been to Subway a lot because I know the questions and the order they are asked.  Well, that was true until the day when I was thrown for a loop. The sandwich artist didn’t ask, “What kind of sub do you want?” as the first question.  Instead she asked, “What size do you want?” I didn’t know what to do. She messed up my entire Subway litany by asking the wrong question first.  Why does size matter when you don’t yet know my bread choice? EVERY Subway person for the last 40+ years has asked me the same first question, then the bread question, and then the size question. Are you some kind of rebel?  A Subway rebel?

When I finally gained my composure and my bun was toasting in the oven, no-not that bun and not that oven, it was my husband’s turn to order.  And guess what?  He got the same, “What size sub?” question first too.  When we finally made it to our table he asked, “Why did she ask me for sub size first?” Well, she’s the artist and I guess for her, size matters.

aging, comedy, holiday, Humor, shopping, women

You’ll Cut Your Bells

It’s beginning to feel a lot like…what the hell?  It’s early November and it’s already Christmasey everywhere you go.  Yeah, I know, I shouldn’t have used ‘hell’ in that sentence given I’m talking about Christmas, but what the hell?

I was in the grocery store on the second day of November picking up a few essential items.  I was going about my business when something started nagging at me. I tried to ignore it as I filled my cart but when I couldn’t shake it, I turned with a jerk. Then sticking a finger aside of my nose I said to my husband, “Is that Christmas music?” I looked around and saw shoppers pushing their carts around like nothing was wrong. They were probably buying what they needed to do all their Thanksgiving and Christmas baking and there I was, dumbfounded that I was hearing jingle bells over the loud speaker on the second day of November. Why are we jingling bells just a few days after carving pumpkins?   Jingling and carving aren’t meant to be so close together; you’ll cut your bells.

Later that day I was watching television and saw an ad that said I could enjoy the smell of a new car for the holidays.  I started to wonder who really gets a new car with a big red bow on it from Santa Claus. Does anybody look out the window after hearing the prancing and pawing of each little hoof and see a new car in the driveway? Nobody is that good and let’s face it, November is too late to start trying.  Actually, it’s too late to start earning elf points for most of the items being advertised on November 2nd as Christmas specials.

What happened that each year we need more time to get into the Christmas spirit or to complete our Christmas shopping?  Oh that’s right, it’s not that we NEED more time, it’s that merchants want us to think we need more time so we’ll spend more money.  So listen up all you merchants. You can play all the music and advertise all the big fancy presents with big red bows that you want.  You can do it as early as you want, in every store that you want, and on every channel store you want.  But I’m not budging…because Christmas is in December.

 

comedy, Community, Humor, music, Travel, women

My New Friends

I went to a new venue the other night and listened to some live music. I was the third oldest person in the place but that didn’t matter, because I learned something new about the younger generation and I liked what I learned.

Everyone knows that Nashville is my favorite city to visit.  There is a lot to do there and if you’re open to the possibility you can find music other than country.  Don’t misunderstand, I like country music and will someday sing it in the Recreation Room. But there is more to life than today’s country, last year’s country, and last decade’s country and only listening to it in crowded, drunk-filled honky-tonks on Broadway.  There is non-country and specifically, non-country from the 60s and 70s, and listening to it in a dark basement in East Nashville. Sounds shady, right?

I can’t say I was ever a fan of The Velvet Underground.  I was only one-year-old when they started playing music so I was busy rockin’ out to the hottest nursery rhymes and playing peekaboo.  Yeah, I know, about now you’re asking what happened that I, an almost 54-year-old woman, ended up listening to music by The Velvet Underground in a dark basement in East Nashville.  Well, let’s just say, it happened and I liked it.  I liked everything about it. Most importantly, I liked the people. They were hipsters and while I couldn’t fit one toe into the skinny jeans many of them were wearing, they were the most respectful people I’ve ever encountered at a live music venue in Nashville or any other state.  While there was a funny smell every now and again, there was no swearing, pushing, gyrating, twerking, or drunkenness. If someone bumped into me, they apologized.  If they wanted through to move closer to the stage, they said “excuse me” or “pardon me.” They minded their business and so did I.  After all, I was in dark basement in a neighborhood undergoing gentrification.  That’s a big word, gentrification, and I’ve never used it before so I had to look it up.  Let’s just say that several years ago, I wouldn’t have been caught dead in that neighborhood, or maybe I would have.

I hear a lot about young kids and adults having a sense of entitlement, but there was none of that in my new neighborhood.  I was just there listening to some live music in a venue with a few of my new hipster friends. And I liked it.