Unless you’ve been sleeping in a very deep hole located under a rock, you’re probably aware of the economic situation and that Occupy Wall Street thingie that’s going on. On that note, I’d like to give a shout out to Kayne West for showing up, and NOT demanding that Beyoncé become the leader of the protest. I guess that Taylor Swift thing made an impact.
So…I started thinking about my little town and all the consultants here. More power to them, we’re all trying to make some money, except for me. I’m just trying to make dinner on a regular basis. Now…these consultants, a lot of them acquaintances of mine, are trying to sell their “this and that’s” to us all. We’ve got a lady for it all: Pampered Chef, Tastefully Simple, Lia Sophia, Mary Kay and ThirtyOne. This is where they decide to waterboard or stick bamboo shoots under my nails. In this economy, can I really afford to buy your wares?
**(On a side note: I just left this blog post to take a picture of my frickin’ adorable son, who is sporting a Flock of Seagulls hairstyle. I turned on my camera and the screen showed “Camera Battery Exhausted”. What the hell??!!?? I’m fucking exhausted, where’s my battery replacement? Can I wear a sign that says that? Will my family leave me alone? Yeah….I didn’t think so. It’s settled. I’m getting a robot.)**
Back to business: In this rural little place, (with subdivisions) consultants are like drug dealers, tobacco venders and door to door ABC stores all rolled up into one. Times are tough and it’s hard to get by. We all need a fix and something to numb the pain and reality of life.
Here comes someone, right to my front door, selling happiness and convenience. The first knock on the door is the Pampered Chef lady. It all sounds so good….shiny pans, heavy clay cooking dishes and fancy containers with humidifier tabs for storing food in your icebox. Whatever will I do? It’s all so tempting, but I always scratch those non-stick dishes and end up with poisonous bits in my eggs. I’m afraid of dropping those heavy clay pots and why
the fuckdoes my refrigerator have separate compartments for meat, vegetables and fruit if I need fancy tabbed containers? I’ll stick with GladWare for now. I sent her away.
Then came another knock. It was the Tastefully Simple lady. She brought samples in her tidy little basket, because unlike the Pampered Chef lady, she knows what
the fuckshe’s doing. I ate those samples up like brunch at Costco. I had to turn her away though. I can’t feed my family those tasteful dishes. They would become spoiled and accustomed to goodness. They would expect to remain in that lifestyle. My family doesn’t deserve a lifestyle! Currently, they’re trained to eat whatever the hell I put in front of them. Why would I want to change that perfect system? Bye bye!
With knock three, I was bombarded by, who I thought were the three bears. It was the three barracudas selling me Lia Sophia, Mary Kay and ThirtyOne. Lia Sophia had the most beautiful jewels in the land. I would surely catch a prince wearing those lovelies. Alas, in my younger days those jewels only landed me an ass. I pawned those lovelies to pay my credit card bill. I may not have a prince, but I have a knight. He wears headgear and really doesn’t notice my face. No need for jewelry and on that note; there’s no need for Mary Kay. Besides, years ago I made a bargain with a special wizard to expand my bust. I don’t even need my face. It’s a nice fairytale for young girls, thinking that shiny clean hair, pretty blemish free faces and painted faces keep catch a prince, but that’s a big fat lie. Bag it up and lay down. Now..I almost fell for the ThirtyOne, until I found out it was bags and purses, not the promise of turning back time a decade.
Then came knock number four. Who could this be? I wasn’t expecting another suitor. I opened the door amazed. It was my fairy Godmother with everything a girl needs to be happy with or without Prince Charming. The magic she had in her grasp was like nothing I had seen before. She cold barely hold the power in her hands. I gladly gave her my money with the promise of leaving the worries of this world behind and embracing the beauty of myself. Who was this magical person? It was the Slumber Parties lady, of course. One chain link see-thru bikini later, along with some magical gadgets and the blue birds began to fly around my head singing. I did ask the dwarfs to leave. That was a bit much.
Some things you just can’t put a price on. That feeling puts me in the 100% people.
9 thoughts on “Whose afraid of the big bad consultant?”
Okay, the post was hilarious, but the thing that really got me was the tag – were you drinking when you wrote this – LMAO.
Can’t wait to see up happens next.
No. Shocking enough…too early in the day for me. I do have a tag that states “Drinking when I wrote this.” I really am drinking and I tag it accordingly (not intoxicated though).
AWESOME!!! (Of course the Slumber Parties consultant in me likes this one!)
Good to know!
Oh Dear Lord…..And this is what I wake up to at 12:55 p.m., because I cannot sleep, and decide to catch up on Facebook. What was I thinking???? I love you Lorre, and now I need a drink.
I knew something out there could trigger your drink reflex.
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Ha! you’re right, this post is underrated, I love it! I can’t believe they actually come to your door!! Up here they are always trying me to go to their tupperware, pampered chef, and jewelry parties! The only one’s I ever oblige to are the “naughty” toy parties, and the “knockoff” designer bag parties..and even then I can’t afford to buy anything. But I love the insert there, about taking the photo of your son…soooo true!!!
They have the parties here too, but I know so many people who sell all of this stuff…well, they might as well come to my door. It made for a better story that way.