PROBLEM AREAS

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

M. came in late today. She's wearing a white dress embroidered with sparkles and rows of vertical flowers. Her blouse is also white with short puffy sleeves and her hair is styled in a 1950's ponytail. She is posed and ready to sing "Hopelessly Devoted to You" from the movie, Grease. Native American style earrings dangle to her shoulders a la Pocahontas. (She is ready for a sock hop!)

She curtsey's, sits down in her chair, stands up, curtsey's, sits down, stands up, curtsey's and sits down again.

She talks about her son. This is an exact quote: "If he wasn't my son, I would definitely marry him. Let me add something to that: AND if he were 17 years older." Something about seeing all of her son's paint gun equipment has given rise to romance.

M. demonstrates how she can get a child to do anything. First, she gets all excited and opens her eyes really wide. Then she puts on a huge smile of big metallic shiny braces and says, "Do you want a spanking??" Her tone is all puppy-dog like. "Or," she furrows her brow, scrunches her lips into a hateful wad and seethes with snake-like spittle, "do you want a hundred dollars?"

She concludes, "Ask a child like that and he will choose the spanking."

"Jake!" M. turns the pages of her calendar. "I've scheduled my Liposuction. They can get me in on October 6th. I don't mean to pressure you, but I made the appointment." She is convinced I will be a millionaire by then and pay for her liposuction. She is the last person I would consider for Lipo because she is so thin and fit already, but M. assures me there are 'problem areas.'

A co-worker passes out enormous zucchini from her garden to several gals on the team. The jokes fly aplenty about the "shape" and "size" of the giant plump vegetables. The one M. gets is the length of two bowling pins put together and as wide as a chubby baby boy.

M: (With a huge grin.) "I just might call in sick tomorrow."