Let’s Just Cry About It

Sooner or later these people are going to realize that my kitchen is NOT Dr. Phil’s couch.

I was in the dining room, taking care of guests when I noticed someone’s bare feet in the kitchen.  I couldn’t see who the bare feet belonged to since the swinging doors obscured the body.  Once I got in the kitchen, I saw Eeyore, teary eyed, boozed up, barefoot and in her pajamas.

Just another night that ends in ‘Y’.

I asked, “Why are you barefoot and in your pajamas in the kitchen?”

She asked, “Is Bagheera here?”

“No, she went home.”

That should have been the end of it, but it never is.

She started to tell me why she was a hot mess and I held up my hands.  “If this is a problem to do with the business and I can help fix it, lay it on me.  If this is personal drama, keep it to yourself.”

She said her disarray had nothing to do with work.  I again said, “I don’t want to hear it.”

“But I want to tell you.”

“NO!  It isn’t any of my business and I don’t WANT it to be any of my business.”

“But I need to talk to someone.”

“Go talk to Bagheera.”

“I don’t have a cell phone.”

“Use the kitchen phone or walk yourself across the street and talk to Bagheera, but leave me out of it.”  I opened the swinging doors to the dining room and Eeyore tried to follow me.

Then I had to put my finger in her face.  “Do NOT pursue me.  I don’t want to hear your problems.  If you don’t get out of my kitchen, I’m going to start telling you things, and I can guarantee you won’t like me when I’m done.”

I took the order on the table and when I went back to the kitchen, she was gone.

Why do people insist on airing their dirty laundry?  Do they not have any sense of pride or an ounce of self respect?  I know she and Doc were fighting and she needed someone to take her side and tell her she is right and he is wrong.  If I wanted to listen to two people fight, I’d still be married. 

I work hard on having a peaceful life.  It’s all daffodils and puppies in my fantasy world and I’ll be damned if these boozy people are going to turn it into poison ivy and hell hounds.  I don’t care about their problems.  I don’t want to be part of their drama.  I don’t get paid enough to listen to their bullshit (which even if I did I still wouldn’t).

I figure if I tell enough of them to fuck off, they will get the hint and find someone who gives a rat’s ass.  If they don’t, I’ll go to Plan B.  Nobody likes Plan B.

Plan B



9 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. DarcKnyt
    May 29, 2012 @ 15:36:24

    I wondered when Pooh, or someone more like Rabbit, would do this to that ol’ downer.

    It can’t happen soon enough.


  2. Squiggy's mom
    May 29, 2012 @ 16:16:51

    You make me grin so wide it hurts my face!

    I’m glad someone finds me amusing.


  3. zmanowner
    May 29, 2012 @ 17:39:19


    I was waiting for the reason why she was not wearing any shoes. Some folks just cant live without drama no matter how much someone wants to brain them with a hammer. Hope she finds some suitable shoes..zman sends

    The only thing I can guess is she got into a fight with her husband and left the house without shoes…you know…for dramatic effect.


  4. DarcsFalcon
    May 29, 2012 @ 23:28:24

    Gah, I hate drama like that! I like my drama nice and defined, in 90 min to 2 hour time slots, and reserved to movies. People making their life worse just to have something to get upset about drives me crazy. Why do they make it so hard?! *Eyeroll*

    I like my drama well acted with attractive people, not the same shit everyday from a woman who hurts my eyes.


  5. wigsf3
    May 30, 2012 @ 03:44:27

    Gonna play a little game of pin the head on the donkey?

    Or a donkey punch.


  6. wigsf3
    May 30, 2012 @ 03:49:18

    A similar thing happened to me once when I was doing midnight to dawns as a bowling alley. (Yeah, classy work if you can get it.)
    One night a female co-worker of mine stumbled into the bowling alley crying. I was done all of my duties and there was nobody bowling, so I was basically just sitting down reading an old newspaper.
    It was no secret she was getting nailed by the assistant manager.
    That night, he apparently rolled over and fell asleep or something. She felt disrespected or something. I wasn’t paying too much attention.

    Why do people think their self created problems are anyone else’s burden?

    Long story short, I had to give this woman a hug to calm her down. I don’t do hugs.

    I don’t do hugs either.


  7. thelifeofjamie
    May 30, 2012 @ 07:23:49

    is she on the lower end of the IQ scale?

    Yup, and she’s drunk all the time. Booze never made anyone smarter.

    If someone told me they don’t want to hear my shit, I certainly am not going to tell them. Maybe you should deep fry her and serve her up with some celery sticks.

    You’d need more than celery sticks to kill the taste.


  8. Hira Animfefte
    Jun 09, 2012 @ 13:19:36

    OMG that Pooh picture!

    Isn’t that awesome?!


  9. Hira Animfefte
    Jun 12, 2012 @ 15:34:53

    People telling me about their problems is my job when I’m at work.
    It’s not my job when I’m not at work.
    When I’m not at work, I don’t want to play therapist.
    I think that’s why I stopped going to my knitting group. There was this one lady who started dumping on me every time I came. I just wanted to sit and knit and veg. Leave me the frik alone. I just want to sit, knit, and veg.
    I am nobody’s personal therapist.

    In re: Eeyore. The booze hasn’t make her smarter, but I’m sure she’s well pickled.


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