Blame It On The Rain

by Gig Girl on March 16, 2010

Gig Girl perpetrates a Rain Rant

My morning has gone poorly.  It started off dreary and drenched and went downhill from there.  Seeing the rain outside my window AGAIN, I rolled out of bed, kissed my boys goodbye, threw on some jeans (Yes, I did leave on my pajama top…don’t judge me) and headed off to hang with the senior citizens of my town at my local Market Basket.  I dread everything about this weekly chore, but I do enjoy eating immensely so I understand the necessary evil.

Roaming the store with other dazed and soggy patrons I expertly whipped through the aisles leaving the elderly to fend for themselves in my squeaky-wheeled carriage dust.  My cart was halfway full when I got that first phone call.  It’s my brother, who according to my watch, should be at the photo op with our hometown Mayor that we scheduled last Thursday.  “Just making sure this is the address, Cort,” he said.  “Yep, the paper should be there soon,” I responded.  “9:30 at Townhall.”  Hanging up, I continued on.  The next phone call reached me in the frozen food section.  “Uhm…Cort, it’s 9:34 and the photographer from the paper isn’t here yet.”  “It’s the  XYZ Newspaper,” I said (I won’t mention the actual newspaper name but I will tell you it’s the most popular newspaper publication when you grow up in the town I’m from) “They are professionals.  No worries.  But, I’ll give them a call if you don’t hear from them in the next five minutes.”

Of course, my brother did not hear from them.  So there he stood, feeling awkward both with his staff and the mayor from our hometown based on an appointment I so confidently set up for him.   Again, I’m at the supermarket.  I have no phone number, no email address and nothing that I can leverage at this moment to help him.  So ditching my cart in the pet food aisle, I bolt out of the store in the downpour and do what I usually do when hit with unexpected crisis; I call Hubs.   He immediately looks up the phone numbers I need.  I hang up, run back into the store in the monsoon, find my cart (because there’s no way I’m abandoning this effort and coming back to do my weekly shopping again) and wheel around looking for cell reception.

At this point the only reception I can get is in the beer section of the market (God bless NH for selling alcohol pretty much everywhere).  Wedging my cart as out of the way as possible, (because apparently early morning is a very popular time to purchase beer?  But, no judgment here). I dial.  And dial.  And dial.  When I finally do reach someone at the paper’s front desk I’m quickly sent to the Photograph Editor. “My team is at the town hall with the Mayor, and your staff isn’t,” I snap.  “Oh, yeah,” she casually responds “We’re all on flood watch so we aren’t sending anyone.  We should’ve called you.”   That’s it???  Now I’m angry.  I ask to be connected with her boss who is the editor of the most popular newspaper publication when you’re from the town I’m from.

What happened next, you ask?  Essentially, I got a second very flippant “Yeah, we should’ve call you.”  Crouching down behind the Sam Adams display to maintain a shred of anonymity, I seethed through clenched teeth, “That’s it?  This is how you conduct business?  You need to help me fix this.” And then picturing my poor brother’s face and feeling completely responsible, I said it… “You ought to be ASHAMED of yourself!!!” That made it official.  I was the crazy, unshowered, pajama top sporting, unemployed housewife berating a newspaper editor (who was probably wearing a suit and feeling all smug and hygienically sound and stuff) with a hybrid “woman professional/big sister/mommy” verbal slap down in the beer section of Market Basket.

If anyone needs directions to “Rock Bottom” please just send me an email…

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My Own Worst Frenemy (I love me, I love me not!)
July 7, 2010 at 6:48 am

{ 5 comments… read them below or add one }

Betsy March 15, 2010 at 1:28 pm

Oh Cort…..God Bless you! I love the picture I have in my head right now!! From you hiding out in the Beer Department to the Smug person at the newspaper office sitting atop of the hil!


Meagan March 17, 2010 at 9:58 am

You are hilarious!!!!!

Sarah March 17, 2010 at 10:05 am

Cort – thanks for the visual and I’m sorry that I do get a giggle out of this….not Donny’s sad face of course but you hiding out in Market Basket w/your pjs on berating someone at the newspaper. Now, Donny and the Mayor, can you explain?

Gig Girl March 17, 2010 at 10:51 am

Today I do feel like I can giggle about it – but it took me some time to come down off my mountain of feist!
Donny asked the Mayor to do a photo op with one of the MMA (Mixed Martial Arts) competitors for his big cage fighting event. And the mayor said yes…and the mayor showed up ready to go. I had coordinated the appt with the staff at the paper who totally blew it off. So I felt bad both professionally and as the big sister – the guilt was a double dose!!!

AnnQ March 17, 2010 at 11:57 pm

LOL! That’s great stuff :-)

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