Category Archives: Comedy

The Executive Car Wash – A Symptom of…Something Else

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Have I told you lately how glad I don’t work in the private sector of the business world?  Where expense accounts and car allowances and business lunches are the everyday?  Where strip clubs are put through as “entertainment” and buying a pack of cigarettes counts as a business meal? Where bosses think nothing of dropping $60 a day on Lattes and Cappucinos and Espressos from Starbucks for their team, but give you a card at Christmas with “you’re wonderful!” and nothing more (even when you know they’re part of the “bonus pool” and got a huge check – something that, as an assistant, you are not allowed to be part of, even though you’re part of “the team”).

It seems that the more money you make, the more perks you are given, the worse your behavior for most of those who get the big bucks/have the power.  That doesn’t mean to say that there aren’t great, generous, humble people working for Fortune 500 companies, but they are, from experience, few and far between.

I would hope, that if I ever got into such a powerful position, and was a beneficiary of a “bonus pool” and knew the most important member of my team was not part of it, that I would give them a percentage of what I got.  Even if it was negligible, it’s the point of the thing.  I’ve heard it said that that is how rich people stay rich – they don’t give if there isn’t a tax write-off, or some way to get some of it back.

This hoarding – of funds, of love, of information, of ANYTHING… just makes you poorer.  Maybe not financially, but where the real truth of life lies… in our relationships with each other. A generous person is a person confident of where they fit in the world, and is unafraid to let things go, knowing that whatever you put out into the universe, you will reap threefold.  It’s hard not to be afraid, and it’s hard not to just want to keep it all, in case of, for maybe, the rainy day, it might happen… all of those are valid, but there’s a difference between preparing for later and living in fear.

Here’s something I’ve learned – there’s enough.  Of whatever you need. That’s it.  I may not be talking cash, but I mean everything else.  Cash is just a tool to help you get things. We give it way more power than it has the right to have.

Maybe it’s all about control, and not behavior. Maybe letting go of that modicum of power (in your own eyes) is the line in the sand.  I don’t know.  All I know is that when you’re getting paid to do the Big Job, you should spread the wealth, and let your little elves and pixies take care of the small stuff. They’re usually pretty good at it, and it makes them feel good when you actually LET them do their jobs, instead of doing it for them.

Here’s an example of what I’m talking about:

9:00 AM

<ring ring>

M:          Hi John.

J:            Mary, could you please call the car wash and ask how many executive washes I have left this month?

M:          Sure John.

<ring ring> (goes on for about 2 minutes)

FD:         Front Desk.

M:          Oh, hello, I was trying to reach the car wash?

FD:         Yes, they are already all out of the office doing their jobs washing.  Can I help?

M:          Yes, my boss John would like to know how many executive washes he has left this month.

FD:         <pause> Uhh… OK, I will see if I can find this out for you.

M:          Thank you.

9:25 AM

<ring ring>

M:          John’s Office.

CW:       Hi Mary, John has four car washes left this month.  He is entitled to one fill up and one wash per week, as I’ve told him before.

M:          Thanks so much, I appreciate it.

<ring ring>

J:            Hello?

M:          Hi John, you have four car washes left this month.

J:            Great.  Can you call them back and ask if they can wash my car today? I have a hard out at 4, so it would need to be back by then.

M:          Of course.

<ring ring>

FD:         Front Desk.

M:          Hello, I’m trying to reach the car wash again.

FD:         I’ll have them call you; it may take a while, they are out doing their jobs.

M:          I totally understand. Thank you!

9:40 AM

<ring ring>

M:          John’s Office.

CW:       Mary? Seriously, what is it he needs now? We’re very busy.

M:          I know, sorry.  He would like the car washed today, but he has a hard out at 4, can it be back by then?

CW:       Yes, not a problem.

M:          Thanks so much.

11:30 AM

<ring ring>

M:          Hi, John.

J:            Mary, can you check and make sure the car has been picked up to be washed?

M:          <pause>…Sure, John.

<ring ring>

CW:       Car wash.

M:          Hi, has John’s car been picked up to be washed?

CW:       <pause> Matter of fact, I was on my way to do it when I came back to answer this call.

M:          Sorry.  Thank you so much.

<ring ring>

J:            Hello?

M:          John, your car has been picked up to be washed.

J:            Great. Thanks.

1:15 PM

<ring ring>

M:          Hi, John.

J:            Mary, can you call the car wash and see if the car is ready?  I have a hard out at 4 and I’m worried it won’t be ready.

M:          John, I did tell them it had to be back specifically by 4.

J:            I know but I have to leave right at 4, so it needs to be back before then, I think.

ME:        <pause>…Sure, John. I will call them.

<ring ring>

CW:       CAR WASH!

M:          Hello, I’ve been asked to remind you John needs to leave AT 4, so he would like his car to be there prior to that, if possible.

CW:       Mary, we get it. He needs the car by 4.

M:          (sheepishly) I know you know… Just doing what John is asking.

CW:       <sighs heavily> Yes, we know.

<ring ring>

J:            Hello?

M:          Car wash will have your car back prior to 4.

J:            Great!

3:10 PM

<ring ring>

M:          Hi, John.

J:            Mary, can you make sure the car is back?

M:          John, they said they would have it back before 4, they are very good about it.

J:            I would really like to know that it’s back, for my own peace of mind.  I’d appreciate you not giving me attitude about it.

M:          <pause>…Of course.  I will call and check for…

J:            <click>

<ring ring>

CW:       Car wash.

M:          <clears throat> Hi, just checking to see if John’s car is ready?

CW:       <pause> Seriously?

M:          Yup.

CW:       Yes, Mary.  The car is back in its parking spot, all shiny and clean.

M:          I really appreciate it.  Sorry for all the trouble.

CW:       You’re not the trouble, Mary.

<ring ring>

J:            Hello?

M:          Car’s back and ready to go, John.

J:            Great! You just have to keep on top of these people to make sure they do their jobs!

Did they fill it up?

M:          <pause> Really?

There are so many things going on in these exchanges, I don’t even know where to begin.

Let’s not try.  Let’s just leave it with this:

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Mirror, Mirror, On the Wall…

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I am my Mother after all.

I realized this, sitting at the breakfast table on a Sunday, much like the one that just passed.  Now, you know when you know something, but you don’t really admit it, or think maybe well, I don’t know it… you can continue like that, in denial, for a long, long, time.  Then one day, it’s just absolutely apparent and you can’t deny it anymore, and you accept it, and it’s fine. Because it’s already been like that for quite some time, and the only person really who didn’t know it, or believe it, was you.  And everyone else has been fine with it, too.

I am.  There’s no use denying it.  And I’m really, really, OK with it.  I like to think that I’ve added my own flavor to the mix – upping the ante a little on it – to be me, and her. And then sometimes, when I speak, or say certain phrases, or laugh, I immediately recognize my sisters in myself.

Recognition.  More than just an outside resemblance.  Sharing the same DNA, being forever impacted by listening to how someone answers the phone.  Or belly laughs at a joke.  The color of the eyes and the hair may be different, but there is no doubt, when you strip away the things that we try to make ourselves individual with, to be our own self – that we are all related.

Not only was that Sunday a Mum moment, it was a total Bea Arthur moment.  Bea has been a favorite of mine since I was just a kid.  I envy my sisters in some way because they grew up (and by grew up, I mean the really formative teenage years) during “All In The Family” and, “Maude” and, “The Carol Burnett Show” and, to a lesser extent, “Good Times” and, “The Jeffersons.” I remember my oldest sister babysitting me on nights when my parents bowled, or had date night, and we would curl up on the couch and watch these shows.  She would laugh so hard at Archie Bunker’s exploits, tears running down her face.  I didn’t get it.  I was too young, or too naïve, or both.  All I thought is, “Why is she laughing? He is the meanest man in the world.” Not until later, during re-runs, would I see the brilliant humor and incredible writing and acting on that show.  I did get Carol Burnett, though.  I loved her Tarzan yell, and “Madame,” “Mrs.-a-Whiggins,” and the old lady with the blond hair and tights with the crotch down past her knees.  I had such a crush on Lyle Waggoner.  Those teeth!  But my favorite, my absolute favorite, was Harvey Korman.  The timing that man had.  When he passed away a few years ago, I remember reading what Mel Brooks said about him, “We would look at each other, and fall into comic ecstasy.”  When he tried so hard not to laugh, and Tim Conway would just work at Harvey, sides heaving trying not to go, and Tim would just do one little thing and Harvey would be gone.  I loved it.  Comic ecstasy – is there anything better, truly?

And then, there’s Maude.

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Let’s face it – Bea Arthur was the QUEEN of the slow burn.  Talk about impeccable timing.  I had no idea what the subject matter was, again, too young, but I knew control when I saw it.  When the camera would settle on Bea, and she would stare, then turn, infinitesimally bit by bit, toward her husband, squint, steel her eyes, and say, “God’ll get you for that, Walter.” I fell about laughing, every time.  I tried to perfect that move.  You can ask my husband, I’m pretty good at it.  He laughs, but I know every time it happens, there’s a teeny speck in the back of his mind going, “Oh shit. Is she kidding?  Is she not?” And I try to draw it out as long as I can before I break, giggling.  Sometimes I’m not kidding, but then I end up giggling anyway, as my hubby is just too sweet to be mean to, and I forget half the time why I’m annoyed, just gazing into his gorgeous, sea-green eyes… but I digress.

My Mum has always been great at this – her timing was always spot-on too.  You never knew what she was going to say, but you knew it was going to be good.  I wish I had written down so many more of them – they get me through so many incidents in my own life – but people don’t always get the humor and are offended.  Maybe it’s my timing?  Mum was always so quick on come-backs!  Me, I’m more like George Costanza three days later in the mirror going, “Jerk Store!! I’m going with Jerk Store!”

Completely innocuous questions, or statements; they get turned upside down, and leave you thinking, “Wait a minute!  What just happened here?!?!?!”

I love listening to stories of her younger self, in Scotland, making the boys work if they wanted to dance with her –

Boy:      Are you dancing?

Mum:   Are you asking?

Boy:      I’m asking.

Mum:   ……I’m dancing.

Could be yes, could be no… there’s always that slight hesitation before learning the answer.  That anticipation was killer.  Then there’s this one, said to an American while he was over there:

American:          Gee, I really love the way you Scottish girls roll your “r’s!”

Mum:                  Thanks… it’s my high heels.

…

I’ll wait.

Let you catch up.

Got it? Good.

And, the best ever, was asking for anything.  Whatever it was, you had to go through the gauntlet to get it –

Me:       Mum, can I have a bike?

Mum:   A WHAT?

Me:       A bike, Mum, can I have a bike?

Mum:   I’ll bike YOU!

Completely interchangeable, believe me, as witnessed here:

Me:       Mum, can you make meatloaf tonight?

Mum:   Make WHAT?

Me:       Meatloaf, Mum, can you make meatloaf tonight?

Mum:   I’ll meatloaf YOU!

I don’t even know what it means.  But it’s hysterical.

So, I think I had an absolute obligation to do what I did that Sunday, after breakfast, when I walked outside to the garden; with bedhead, Birkenstocks, a pink housecoat, a cup of coffee, and huge round sunglasses covering my bunny eyes – when my husband did a jig, and burst into song with, “And then there’s MAUDE!”

I took a sip of my coffee, looking over the tops of my glasses at him as I did, and threw my best Mum/Bea Arthur slow burn at him, paused, and said, “God’ll get you for that.”