Bitter Is the New Black: Confessions of a Condescending, Egomaniacal, Self-Centered Smart-Ass, Or, Why You Should Never Carry a Prada Bag to the Unemployment Office : A Memoir (40 page)
Authors: Jen Lancaster
Tags: #General, #Unemployed women workers, #Job Hunting, #Humorous fiction, #Business & Economics, #Careers, #Biography, #Jeanne, #Personal Memoirs, #Biography & Autobiography, #United States, #Women
108
Thank God.
109
Six hours and $250 later.
110
He is SO sleeping on the couch tonight.
111
It was a very brief phase. I was back to tartan plaid within the week.
112
The roommate’s nickname was Zitty-Zitty Bang-Bang.
113
A
very bad
phase. Don’t ask.
114
What’s the deal with straight girls tongue kissing other straight girls these days? I mean, gay is cool, bi isn’t scandalous, but I have trouble dealing with this
Girls Gone Wild
foolishness.
115
Recently a man stopped me at Star Bar when I was clad in a similar outfit and told me, “Honey, I’m gay, but I would totally do you. You’re fabulous!!” This is possibly the greatest compliment I’ve received in my entire life.
116
This used to be my big stress-relieving song when I worked at Corp. Com. I’d play it over and over again and it always managed to calm me. Positive K’s “I Got a Man” and English Beat’s “Save It for Later” are also excellent release valves.
117
Which, fortunately, was not the LAST half hour of my life, although I couldn’t be sure at the time.
118
Fifty.
119
So wrong and yet so good.
120
I would have punched him in the neck had I not thought everyone would point and titter, “What’s the fracas with the fat girl over there?”
121
Tell him to “fuck off.”
122
I don’t care if the shirt doesn’t fit Pete. This is not about a shirt. This is about not going quietly into that good night. Just because they don’t eat refined sugar does not make these people morally superior.
123
Ironically, I actually jog back to the parking garage at an admirable clip.
124
If they had a coffee cart, I might never leave.
125
Who am I kidding? It’s a five-minute drive.
126
That’s pronounced
Zhjill-BEHR—God forbid
you read the tags and assume the English pronunciation. I thought he was going to sic the French Ministry of Language on me.
127
Twenty-five thousand dollars, and yes, thanks, I
do
want to cry.
128
So what if I don’t know how to repair an airplane? They pay A LOT and I’m willing to learn.
129
I’ll not detail the tears shed and tantrums thrown in reaching this decision.
130
For a while, Dad’s corporate office thought he was selling typewriters on the black market.
131
Am I suddenly psychic? Because I see a $15 dry-cleaning bill in my future.
132
Outside to smoke.
133
Kathy, wherever you are, we should discuss your sodium intake.
134
Of course, I did a good job. I used to be a vice president, you know.
135
The agency doesn’t place salespeople, though, so I figure it’s OK. I just have to make Jerry think it was his idea.
136
Box wine may be fine for my purposes, but I am not about to bring it to a party.
137
See? I’m not a total shrew.
138
Since she has such a twisted concept of beauty, I thought she’d appreciate the lovely mosaics of poop my dogs produce now that I take them to make big potty on her lawn every day.
139
When I flushed the toilet in the first room, it sprayed water up like Old Faithful. Let me just say this—no one likes seeing human waste, and it’s particularly disturbing when it’s hurtling at 100 miles per hour at your face.
140
In a pinch, you can use a Starbucks napkin.
141
Another long story starring boys, beer, and an errant Visa card.
142
Which may explain most of my tenure.
143
Granted, there may have been people doing coke but they were way too cool for my cow college.
144
Which we can purchase for only $5 per Polaroid.
145
Shimmery polish is trashy.
146
Electric blue? What was I thinking?
147
Good thing I’m not having children—with the amount they smoke, MY kids would come out with flippers.
148
Peter Drucker is a BUSINESS GOD.
149
That’s Chicago for you.
150
It’s a little surreal how many people log on to read my stupid opinions on stuff.
151
Thou shalt not disrespect Tori Spelling!
152
You may remember her as Blossom’s buddy Six.
152a
And yes, it scares me that I know this.
153
I doubt any of them have been near a Greek chapter, like, ever.
154
I’m totally bluffing.
155
Still a big, fat lie.
156
An entire plate of mashed sweet potatoes may or may not have been thrown in protest.
157
More than once I wished someone would just steal it already.
158
It does sound like my brother can feel comfortable spending Max’s college fund on a tropical vacation.
159
When I was young, I competed in the occasional beauty pageant, and while I was often a shoo-in for Miss Photogenic, I was never once named Miss Congeniality.
160
He was right.
161
I really do love my tracking software.
162
My ex-friend Lynn used to say if she ever got onstage, she’d slip Bob some tongue. Yet she wonders why I no longer return her calls.
163
Semi-lie. This is only because Dad pulled the funding once I flunked out.
164
Lie. I’ve had one assignment and no other temp agency even wants to talk to me.
165
Lie. But, actually, that
would
be kind of cool.
166
Sucking up never hurts.
167
Lie, again. At this point, I DO NOT CARE. I just need a job, any job.
168
If I mentioned to Ickey that I flunked out after my sophomore year, I’d sound less credible.
169
Yes, I’m lying again, but we’re talking life or death at this point.
170
Or, rather, begging for them.
171
Scarlett O’Hara and her old curtains have nothing on me.
172
Where I used to be a vice president, if I hadn’t already mentioned it.
173
I’m thinking I should do well here.
174
So I’m not a VP anymore and the money isn’t huge. However, it will allow me to buy groceries and Fletch’s antidepressants, so I’m pretty damn thankful.
175
I try to keep the swearing to a minimum while I’m in the kitchen.
176
Given Maisy’s penchant for chewing, we go to the doggie ER a LOT. The vet techs have taken to greeting us with “What’d she eat today?”
177
Man’s best friend, my
ass.
178
No, I don’t know what’s gotten into me lately, either.
179
Although they also erected a big fence approximately a foot over our property line. Now going out the side door is like shooting out the birth canal.
180
Which is POLAND, not Russia, and likely why the Russian curses my friend Roadie taught me didn’t produce the desired effect.
181
He hates my “guess what’s” almost as much as my “we have to talk’s.”
182
Once we were sitting at the counter at the Salt & Pepper Diner when a bunch of vegans walked in. They all ordered veggie burgers, and we watched the short order cook grill them in a big puddle of bacon grease. We died laughing when we heard them all exclaiming about how delicious the burgers were.
183
Getting a contact buzz on paint fumes is an added bonus.
184
My day was nothing a fistful of Xanax couldn’t cure, but I ran out of them ages ago, so I had an ice-cream bar instead. OK, two ice-cream bars. And some cookies. And a bag of Skittles.
185
I have no proof of this, but I probably don’t need to remind you that it is, in fact, generally all about me.
186
At least in Bucktown our amorous neighbors had the decency to wait until sundown and turned on some music.
187
I wonder if she was sitting on phone books to see over the dashboard. My guess is yes.
188
He’s there all the time. We call him Wavski Gravski.
189
Even in my state, I can’t help but notice that Maisy smells like Fritos. What’s up with that?
190
I don’t think he’s Captain Honesty because of any great moral obligation. Rather, his short-term memory stinks, so it’s easier to just be truthful.
191
My college nickname. My brother was Blaster. For almost a year, one of my best friends in the fraternity didn’t know my real name.
192
Or at least appeared to be in my young mind.
193
And shortly thereafter discovered the joys of overcompensation.
194
The dirty hippies have permanently ruined the Beatles for me. Thanks a lot, assholes.
195
Thank God, our dry cleaner was able to let out the seams, or else I’d feel like a sausage.
196
Which totally smells like Dreamsicles.
197
I still say it was a mistake anyone could have made. They were in a pretty box from a Las Vegas hotel! What kid wouldn’t like them?
198
She is on the mend and can go twelve hours without her pain meds, thus proving that she’s far tougher than I will ever be. Case in point, Fletch once had to confiscate the pills I got when I injured my back. Apparently when he heard me singing the “I-Like-O-Din Vicodin” song, he determined that my usage had become more recreational than medicinal.
199
As soon as the youngest one turns ten, I’m teaching them all to smoke and swear.
200
Mom.
201
Dad.
202
Todd.
203
Vanilla Ice WAS groundbreaking—so there.
204
I use the term
help
very loosely.
205
Whoever said, “Children need choices,” deserves a swift kick in the ass.
