Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Failing by Trying Too Hard - A mini series. - Case Study #2

The School Carnival (or... Talking.  Just to hear the sound of your own voice)

Saturday night was the PTO fund raising carnival for the blonde's school.  That event is a blog entry in and of itself as it's quite the production and event and requires a shit ton of money from each family - but I'll try to stay focused on my case study here and not digress into the abyss of bullshit related to the illogical concept of the carnival itself. 

We arrived right as the carnival was getting ready to open because we were working the bounce house for the first hour.  Fortunately, there were not yet many people there, because I don't know the people and I'm pretty certain I don't like the people anyway.  We took our post by the bounce house - ready to do whatever it was we were supposed to do - mark off two punches on the cards, get their shoes off, get them in the bounce house, and time them for 5 minutes, get them out of the bounce house.  Repeat over and over until the end of our hour long gig.  Easy enough.  Got it.  All was going well, and then the people started to arrive, and that was when it started.  The talking.  Just to fucking hear himself talk I think. 

Him:  Hey, there's that one gal.

Me:    Who?

Him:  You know.  That gal, she reminds me of that one chick that played that one gal on that movie.

Me:    Yeh.  I have no idea.

Him:  Oh shoot - I wish I could remember her name. 
(oh - so do I  - believe me - because this conversation is fucking stupid and a waste of my time)

Him:    Hey!  We have that same camera!  Honey - look!  Isn't that the same camera as ours?

(I look at the camera - it's a Panasonic point and shoot jobbie - ours is a Nikon D80 - so they weren't even the same size.  Or shape.  Or style.  As a matter of fact - the ONLY thing they had in common was that they were both..... CAMERAS)

Me:  Not exactly.

Him:  Oh - I thought it was - is ours a Sony?

Me:  It's a Nikon.

Him:  Can you believe how tall Cameron has gotten?

Me:  I haven't seen Cameron, so I don't really know how tall he is.  I don't think I've seen him in like 4 years.

Him:  He's RIGHT THERE! 
(I again look in the general direction of his finger pointing into a sea of 50+ kids - all of whom have their back turned)

Me:  Huh.  I'm sorry - I guess I don't know which one he is. 

This shit went on for the entire hour we worked that bounce house.  I punched tickets, ensured shoes and necklaces were removed and safely placed on the side and out of the way, counted the kids, assembled them into groups by size so the little ones wouldn't get killed, herded them in and out of that fucking bounce house.  He was in charge of the timer.  But so busy gawking and chatting about all the people he THOUGHT he knew, that most times forgot and I was left begging him to check the time.  After the bounce house, we went in search of the blonde and ended up staying another hour (much to my dismay) - where he continued his "there's that one kid's parents" bullshit for the next hour. 

Him:  There's that one kids's parents.

Me:  Yep.

Him:  Why are you so snotty?

Me:  Because you don't have a fucking clue what anyone's name is so the whole night has been an irrelevant conversation that has left me confused and irritated. 

(about that time, some dude walks by, smiles real big and says to me, "HI!!  How are you?"  I responded with a cordial "fine thank you" and smiled back)

Husband:  Who was that?


Him:  Well, I don't recognize him.  How do you know him?

Me:  I don't.  I've never seen the fucker in my life.  He said hello.  So I said hello back.  I don't know him.  I don't know who he belongs to.  Chances are..

Him:  Hey!  There's that one neighbor around the corner - you know the one in the taupe house - oh what's their name......

If I EVER have to go to that school carnival again I'm going to take several Xanax.  And tape his fucking mouth shout.

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