We had a lady stop in today to talk about some boudoir portraits she wants to have done as a Valentine's present for her husband. The DH was on location, so I was giving her the nickel tour. No, I did not give her change back.
I had shown her the camera room, and some of the items we could use for her pictures, then we moved back into our reception area. I was talking about setting up her appointment when she abruptly asked me, "Does he have Tourette's?" Having watched South Park, I of course knew what Tourette's was (and btw, respect my authoritay!), but was confused. She hadn't met the DH yet, and anyway, he is probably the least potty-mouthed man I know outside a minister. Your Goddess, OTOH, could make a sailor blush. If I wanted.
"Yes," she continued, "the boy next door. Does he have Tourette's?"
I burst out laughing and told her there were 15 boys with Tourette's next door, or as they call it, karate practice! We VERY unfortunately share a wall with a small karate studio, and if you think the noise is bad...well, actually, you'd be right. But picture this....Sicily, 1932...no, no, that's not right. Picture us sitting in our consultation area, speaking with a dewy-eyed bride about her upcoming nuptials. She's speaking of her hopes and dreams of her wedding day, when ::::::Hi-YAH!:::::: and THUD against the wall. Leaves a little something to be desired in the whole sustaining a mood department. No soundproofing at all, the parents refuse to leave the one parking space we have next to the access ramp into our studio open - even when we posted a sign with the karate studio owners' agreement; very nice men - and the little cretins trample the bushes while hopping on and off our elevated porch area. Guess who Mummy will try to sue if the kid falls off onto the parking lot cement car stops?
The one that REALLY got me was the boy, decidedly old enough to know better, that I caught actually twisting and beating on the sign we had put up indicating that that one space was to be left for our clients. "Excuse me?!?" I ground out, looking at his mother who is gossiping with some other hausfrau. "Oh, are you helping to straighten the sign?" she simpers at her son. I state with emphasis, "It was never crooked!" as she makes her farewells, and walks up our ramp (completely separate from the karate studio, so they have no business on it at all) then begins to walk past me through the landscaping!
I point out that this is not a walk way, but a garden, and that stray dogs often do their business there. Seriously, there've been times I think someone let their elephant defecate there, but that's another rant. Anyway, she gives me a filthy look which I meet utterly deadpan, says to little Johnny, "I guess we'll have to walk around,"(why yes! - yes you will!) and goes back the way she should have gone to begin with.
And when I have my dogs in the studio, I make sure they take their dumps right next to the porch on the garden side. I call it an insurance policy. :->
1 comment:
Parents are worse than kids and then they wonder why little Johnny becomes a serial killer!
Post a Comment