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October 7, 2004
Social Implosion
Lani, writing from the glamorous closet, in her pajamas...
Well, we're off to the races. Michelle is in the air right now, on her way to New Jersey, and Alesia is in New York City, I believe. Me, I'm procrastinating packing because... well, that's what I do. I'm just that kind of girl. For those of you who are interested, all three Literary Chicks will be at the Doubletree Hotel in Somerset, New Jersey from 4p-6p on Saturday for the New Jersey Romance Writers Book Fair/Autograph Party. It's open to the public, so if you're in the area, come see us.
Now, for my "Lani Sticks Her Foot In It" story du jour....
So I was at Wal-Mart tonight because... well, I love Wal-Mart. Wal-Mart and I have a special relationship. There was a time when Target threatened to come between us, but in the end, I'm a Wal-Mart kind of girl. Target's just too pretty for me, too refined. I'll admit... every now and again I do have a dalliance with Target when I'm in need of an ego boost and want to buy something with that certain Target panache. But typically, Wal-Mart's my place. No pretensions at Wal-Mart. Just rolled back prices and aisles crunched so tight and so full that you can't get your cart past the big, honking support pole holding the building up without a pulley system and a vat of baking grease.
Tonight's Wal-Mart excursion, however, was different. Instead of leaving me with the self-satisfied knowledge that I saved eighty-three cents on a twelve pack of toilet paper, it made me realize something about myself.
I think I might be too low-class for Wal-Mart.
I know, I know. Wal-Mart is the one place where no one has to ever feel unworthy. That's the beauty of Wal-Mart. Any place whose advertising mascot is a bouncing yellow smiley face is the kind of place that's really not gonna look down on anyone.
Well... I may be the first. But then, I might be overreacting. You be the judge.
So, I'm walking up to Wal-Mart to grab some last minute items for the trip, and as I go in, there's a woman with a sign for Redemption Something-Or-Other - I'm thinking church, but I didn't actually read the sign - and it has a list of bake sale items. They're raising money for something, I have no idea what because I didn't read the sign, but I figure I'll toss them a couple of bucks. I'm sure, like everything else, that it's For The Children or some such etcetera.
So I walk up to her and smile and she asks if I'd like to buy any of the tasty treats they've got - pies, brownies, cookies, etc. - and I shake my head and smile, feeling benevolent, feeling gracious, knowing I'm going to give them money and not ask for a thing in return.
"No, thanks," I say, grinning, "my ass is way too fat as it is."
And her smile drops. Literally, right off her face, I heard the thud as it hit the ground. And I'm still holding on to my smile, keeping it pasted on my face, as I realize that I've just been crude with a Church Lady.
Usually, this kind of thing doesn't bother me. I've got a big fat mouth, and I'm used to the consequences. But for some reason, tonight, as I mumbled my way over to the jar and dropped the cash in, I felt like the biggest tool imaginable.
I mean, sure. She could have been a little more gracious about it, and had I realized that a kid was standing behind me, I really would have watched my tongue, but my question to myself is, Why? Why do I always say the exact thing that I know is going to be offensive? Why can't I just shut the hell up and let people continue on with their day, raising money with baked goods for Redemption and The Children?
Why? Why? Why?
Anyway, if you end up in New Jersey this weekend, and I say something to offend you, I apologize in advance. I am a walking social implosion, a faux pas on legs. Whatever I say, just know that a) I probably don't mean it and b) I'm an idiot.
And now, you've been warned...
Posted by Lani at 7:56 PM | Comments (4)
Comments
Bless your heart.
If it makes you feela any better, it probably ranks right up there with my telling a NY Times Bestselling Author that I found a character she'd written loathesome (trying to figure out how editors dealt with unlikable characters) and she stared frostily at me and told me that the character was based on her best friend.
oops
And I said this in a room full of Bestselling Author's devotees and local media outlets who looked at me as if I were little more than beetle dung for daring to criticize of the Bestselling Author's Fabulous Characters.
You're not alone with the foot-in-mouth-itis darlin'.
Have fun in Jersey. Wish I was going!
B.
Posted by: Barb at October 7, 2004 10:43 PM
LOL..
I've had a few good ones, including the "I hate when so-and-so always talks at my breasts instead of me... he's standing right behind me isn't he?" moments.
Jess :D
Posted by: Jess B. at October 8, 2004 4:49 PM
Join the club, Lani! I had a friend once regale me with a list of symptoms, most importantly a terrible headache (read: head explosion) that had sent her to the ER. I looked at her completely without thinking and said, "When that exact thing happened to another friend they found out she had MS." Obviously didn't make her feel better. In fact, I think she headed straight back to the ER for more tests. :-)
Shannon
PS I'll be coming to your book signing at the Elliott Bay Bookstore in Seattle in a few weeks. I'll try to overlook any crass comments you may make to me about MY less than petite backside.
Posted by: Shannon at October 8, 2004 9:57 PM
That ranks right up there with last weekend's Cub Scout excursion during which, I said, "The alarm on my (forgotten) phone is probably going off right now and the husband is trying to figure out how the hell to turn the damned thing off." Great language for a Den Leader, huh?
Posted by: Cate at October 10, 2004 8:55 PM
