Thursday, June 01, 2006

Standing In the Way of Control

I used to have an absolutely perfect butt. I'm not saying I had the perfect butt because bottoms of great beauty cross our lines of sight in all forms and shapes, and the world of derrieres is - pardon me - wide. Yes, for decades I walked around all day with a tuchas so perfect in its own right that telling people to kiss my enchanting bottom was no ordinary insult. Yes, though I had the Great Butt of Happiness and today I possess the Rump of Mild Mirth, I can die happy, knowing I contributed to joy in the eyes of the world because my darling Miss Sasha has an absolutely perfect bottom for her tiny frame, and yesterday, she hightailed it to a phone and called me.

Miss Sasha: WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! I'm having the worst week! [Beep!][Silence.] Aunt Daria's on the other line. [Click.]
Tata: She called to cry on my shoulder and put me on hold?

After about ten minutes, I figured I could hang up and wait. An hour later, Miss Sasha regaled me with a gut-wrenching tale of catering horror, which was bad but nowhere near as bad as the Sword of Damocles hanging over the heads of her Dad and me: What if she breaks up with Mr. Sasha and wants to come home? So, really, the degree of disaster here is all relative. She was crying the first time she called but Daria seems to have calmed Miss Sasha down.

Miss Sasha: Okay okay okay it was so bad, Mommy! The bride was crying in my face and her father was following me around, threatening me and he sent back the rentals and blamed me and he was shouting, "Don't any of you know how to use a calculator?" and every one of us fell down the steep stairs in the house, which they had to have known we would if they live there and my bartender was soaked in crab boil and -
Tata: Sweetheart -
Miss Sasha: Aunt Daria said everyone in catering has a story like this and she told me about a disaster with the bride's sister and I was going to have to give them back the money and Daria said I might need legal advice and -
Tata: STOP! What did Daria say?
Miss Sasha: She said this is not my fault.
Tata: Okay, then. You know very well if she thought you were the slightest bit to blame she'd tell you you'd screwed up.
Miss Sasha: Yes...
Tata: And you know how she hates when anyone plays the victim, right?
Miss Sasha: Yes...
Tata: So...did the people get married?
Miss Sasha: Yes.
Tata: And did everyone have cake?
Miss Sasha: Yes.
Tata: Awesome. Don't take any crap, sweetheart. Mommy can't cross state lines and kick ass for you. That's assault.

Just the same, I waited for Daria's call and less than half an hour later, it came.

Tata: Did you get a straight story out of Our Darling?
Daria: Yep.
Tata: So what happened?
Daria: You know I'm very good at what I do, right?
Tata: Yep.
Daria: The bride threw Sasha under the bus.
Tata: Really?
Daria: Her family didn't like the decisions the bride made and changed everything on the day of the wedding. You can't miscount guests and send back tables and chairs you rented three months ahead on Memorial Day Weekend and expect anything but trouble. Sasha was right there, so all the hate went her way.
Tata: Wow! People are stupid!
Daria: Yeah, I told her to get back on the horse.

Hours later, Miss Sasha and her friend call for no real reason but they're laughing and making mango lhasis.

Tata: That might be good with vodka but I bet the hangovers would be a bitch.
Miss Sasha: Tawny, what do you think about vodka and hangovers?
Tata: Be sure to drink water with those! You sound better.
Miss Sasha: I am. Aunt Daria told me to learn from this.
Tata: It's true! If this is the worst moment of your life, then the worst moment of your life is behind you!
Miss Sasha: Well, I'm still not sure what to do.
Tata: I am! My advice is to drink heavily. This painful lesson may fade into distant memory but stories of drunken hijinx live forever!

Some of life's lessons come at a dear cost but on some special lessons, interest compounds daily. Miss Sasha's intentions were good, and she deserved better treatment. This other character is getting his just desserts, and his ass kicked in a way that will haunt him all his working life.

Bon appetit!


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