04.22.2005
A Cup of Tea, a Cookie, and a Bitch Slap
Last week, I drove down to Washington to perform a crucial bit of commercial espionage. As driving conditions throughout the District ran the gamut from obstacle course to gridlock, I decided to take a time-out from the terrifying traffic and drop by my sister-in-law’s Georgetown fashion boutique, the one I designed a year ago and have not managed to visit since. My sister-in-law wasn’t there, but I spent a few minutes chatting with her sister, who also works on the premises.
“Jenna’s coming in twenty minutes,” she told me from out of the blue.
“Oh . . . Jenna,” I said, for a moment thinking this was someone I had met and should remember. “Wait, who’s Jenna?”
She gave me the same look she gave me last year when I told her I didn’t know who Jessica Simpson was. My sister-in-law’s sister has raised the scoff to an art form. “Uh, Jenna Bush? You should stay and meet her.”
“Bye!” I said and headed out the back door.
“What’s the matter, don’t you like her?” she called after me. I turned back and raised an eyebrow. Comprehension dawned through a storm front of roiling clouds. “Oh, her father . . . “
Yes, her father.
I have no problem with poor Jenna. As far as I know, unlike both of her parents, she has not caused anyone’s violent death, and she can’t help that a good number of her relatives are grotesquely wicked. I get a kick out of the reports that she dresses like a floozy because I know my sister-in-law can claim some responsibility for that,* but I can’t even remember what she looks like for more than a fleeting moment; as far as I’m concerned, she is a non-entity (although not quite as non an entity as her sister, Not-Jenna).
But I knew I would have been utterly compelled to condemn the father of this non-entity if the non-entity and I ever shared proximity. As any intelligent, ethical, and patriotic citizen would do, I would not only condemn him, I would do so with increasing volume and severity, with a righteous fury that would put Julia Sugarbaker to shame and carry the unfettered power of a nuclear bitch slap felt from the roots of that wretched family tree all the way up to its most delicate branches.
And then I would go across the street to Starbucks and get a nice cup of hot tea and a chocolate-chip cookie because, you know, I deserve it.
* As for the frequent reports that she acts like a floozy, the culpability is murkier.
"A righteous fury that would put Julia Sugarbaker to shame."
Of course it would, especially since Dixie Carter rode in our National Embarrassment's first inaugural parade.
It was one of the most horrible, illusion-shattering things I've ever seen in my life.
"A righteous fury that would put Julia Sugarbaker to shame."
Of course it would, especially since Dixie Carter rode in our National Embarrassment's first inaugural parade.
It was one of the most horrible, illusion-shattering things I've ever seen in my life.
I certainly shouldn't feel bad about not knowing who Jessica Simpson is... the only two reasons I bother maintaining awareness of her are both suspended from her chest. And even that is barely enough reasons to care. I give her three more years before she has a kid and lets it all go. Race you to the bottom, Britney!
posted by:
jwer on 04.22.2005 at 8:17 AM
I would have paid good money to see that!
posted by:
Hanuman on 04.22.2005 at 8:55 AM
I honestly thought she was a character in The Simpsons until a juvenile colleague put me right.
Hope I don't appear in italics - so common!
posted by: campbell on 04.22.2005 at 9:01 AM
If I owned the boutique, I would do what one New York restaurant did a few months back when Jenna and non-Jenna wanted a table: "Sorry; we're completely full for the next four years." Or I would have you do it, dressed as Julia Sugarbaker. Me, I would be dressed as Suzanne Sugarbaker, cowering in the back and comforting my pig Cecilia, uh, Maggie.
posted by:
Jen on 04.22.2005 at 12:08 PM
You should carry some Emergency Chocolate for just this kind of tense moment.
I would probably confuse her with a particularly long St. Olaf story, and then surreptitiously motion to Estelle Getty to clock her with a cane. Then we'd get cheesecake.
oh wow, you are like, sorta famous then! :D cos u like designed the place the famous chick floozies herself in.
posted by:
chris on 04.22.2005 at 7:55 PM
Faustus: You had to tell me that, didn't you. (Twice!) Now I am going to knit a noose and use it.
Jwer: I'm glad that our circle of friends doesn't lose sight of what's important in life.
Hanuman: I would have charged you nine thousand dollars, but it would have been worth it.
Campbell: Who? Jenna? She is a bit cartoonish.
Jen: I don't see Suzanne as the nurturing type. I will picture you as Anthony dressed in drag.
Licketysplit: You always keep your wits about you in an emergency. I like that.
Chris: That is the least of the reasons I'm famous. :)
posted by:
David on 04.24.2005 at 8:36 PM
Faustus: You had to tell me that, didn't you. (Twice!) Now I am going to knit a noose and use it.
Jwer: I'm glad that our circle of friends doesn't lose sight of what's important in life.
Hanuman: I would have charged you nine thousand dollars, but it would have been worth it.
Campbell: Who? Jenna? She is a bit cartoonish.
Jen: I don't see Suzanne as the nurturing type. I will picture you as Anthony dressed in drag.
Licketysplit: You always keep your wits about you in an emergency. I like that.
Chris: That is the least of the reasons I'm famous. :)
posted by:
David on 04.24.2005 at 8:37 PM
"As any intelligent, ethical, and patriotic citizen would do..."
Presume much?
posted by:
beaupeep on 04.28.2005 at 9:14 PM
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