The Karen: Evolution

I’ve recently posted about a certain type of woman. The name I gave this woman is Karen. The name is a catchall for the women who think they are better than the average person and treat those people as such, for absolutely no reason. Karen has an average job, an average car, ill-behaved children, a let-me-speak-to-your-manager haircut, can’t get through the day without Starbucks before work and at lunch, and goes to church every Sunday just to show everyone there that she showed up. Karen is no better than anyone else, but likes to pretend she is even though she is the same as your average human being. This is a story about an evolved form of Karen: Sharon.

Sharon is a name we are going to give to the Karens of the world who, instead of treating people like garbage for no reason, do so because they actually are of a higher stature than the rest of us. Sharon has the let-me-speak-to-your-manager-so-I-can-get-you-fired haircut, drives a luxury SUV that is way too big for her, has very spoiled children who get everything they want, doesn’t have a real job but makes turquoise jewelry to sell at local markets, gives back to the community by writing a check, knows all the local politicians but doesn’t actually know anything about politics, and wouldn’t be caught dead in a Starbucks even if her cappuccino machine at home was broken.

The easiest way to spot a Sharon is by her bracelets. All of them are shiny, all of them are too big, none of them actually go together, and they are the loudest bracelets on the face of the planet.

I had the misfortune of meeting a Sharon around 4 o’clock this morning. I was just wrapping up a site and was inside the store when Sharon walked in.

Gas stations that are open 24/7 are not usually the kind of please you want to be. Sharon is the last person who wants to be there.

Sharon had been driving her Audi Q7 for the last few hours on her way to a Mary Kay sales convention and needed to use the restroom. The clerk directed her to the restroom in the corner of the store. About 2 seconds after the restroom door closed it opened right back up again and Sharon stormed to the counter.

How could that clerk expect her to use such a terrible facility?! Not only is it unisex, but it was filthy. Clearly some man has sprayed his DNA all over the place and she would be calling the district manager to let him know how she was being treated.

I was the last person in that restroom, it was spotless before and after I used it. Very clean, smelled good, and was fairly spacious. So I don’t know what the hell Sharon was talking about, and seeing as how the clerk was the one who cleaned it, he was as perplexed as I.

Not only did Sharon display her disgust at such treatment, but she exclaimed that she will never visit one of these gas stations again. As she walked out the door she could be heard muttering that she should have just flown to her conference.

Good riddance.

Karens are awful people to deal with. Sharons are worse. I have dealt with many Karens and Sharons in my day. This particular Sharon was on the tame side. I’m sure it won’t be long before I get to experience another. Can’t wait.

Stay classy, and I’ll see you at the next stop.

The Poem

With curious eyes like pools of dark chocolate
that make a man want to dive right in, 
and nut-brown hair with a tint of red, 
it's impossible to get this beauty out of your head.

Her laugh is contagious and lights up a room.
She is gentle and sweet and as stubborn as the Texas weather.
The perfect height for forehead kisses, 
she's sure to be the object of your affection forever. 

Never before has a passion been so true
as that of this woman who molds young minds.
Her fears and wishes and dreams match yours,
her goals and ambition can open all doors,
and her lighthearted spirit will keep your fates intertwined.

The sense of humor that inhabits her soul
brought you both together. 
It's a humor that is dark and brings laughter beyond control,
but can turn around and be light as a feather.

Even her expressions are as adorable as can be,
from the corners of her smile to her pout.
One short conversation with this pearl in the sea
and you will see what I'm talking about.

Even in sickness she will be fierce as the sun
and nothing in the world will stop her.
The object of your desire
becomes your heart's fire
and causes your emotions to stir.

She's cute and she's vulnerable
and she has no filter to show.
An old-school violinist
and a knack for Spanish
are examples of her knowledge that grows.

Dedication to family
and an overall happy demeanor
can prove how loving she can be.
Any tiny flaws
she may think she has
only make her more lovely to you and me.

This woman I speak of exists in the world,
or at least she does in mine. 
One should be so lucky as I seem to be
to find someone so divine.

So how will you know when you have found the woman
that has stayed in touch with her inner child?
Be patient and true
and realize that you
will do anything just to make her smile.

This angel with eyes like pools of dark chocolate
and red-tinted nut-brown hair,
is who you have sought,
will never leave your thoughts,
and no one will ever compare.

The J’Accuse!

I’m not sure why I haven’t written about this yet. It should have been one of the first posts I wrote. Basically, I did my job, did a good deed for the day, got spit on, and didn’t kill anyone.

Let’s dive in.

Gallup, NM. The dead of winter. Strong wind, snow, 6 degrees, and hard work. I have 4-foot manhole covers open, large orange cones everywhere, I’m a large guy in a bright orange work shirt, jacket, and safety vest. All fuel dispensers are bagged off in bright yellow caution bags that say “OUT OF SERVICE.”

Enter Karen. I’m using the name Karen because everyone knows a Karen, and knows that Karen is a terrible person. Karen drives a white 2016 Honda Civic. Karen has a “let me speak to your manager” haircut. Karen is roughly 65 years old. Karen hates the world, specifically, hard workers named Michael.

Michael, the hero of our story, is diligently working in terrible weather and trying to stay positive. All of a sudden, a white 2016 Honda Civic speeds through a section of large orange cones that are surrounding 4-foot manholes.

Any vehicle, especially small, white 2o16 Honda Civics, don’t do well when driven through 4-foot manhole covers. In fact, they do so poorly that they can even get a flat tire.

Karen now has a flat tire.

This is very clearly my fault, as my large, brightly-clothed frame and large orange cones don’t scream “DO NOT DRIVE THROUGH HERE, YOU MORON.”

Karen decides that the only way to diffuse and correct this situation is to get out and yell at Michael. “You don’t have the right to shut down a whole gas station! I’m on empty, and now I have a flat tire! I want your name, company name and phone number, and your boss’s name!! I’m going to call and report this!”

Naturally, Michael gives her all the information she wants, knowing full well that this is entirely her fault. The cones, cameras, and witnesses were proof enough.

In an effort to calm Karen down, Michael offers to change her tire for her and apologized for the travesty she has experienced, because Michael is a nice fucking guy. Changing a tire is easy enough, but still a frustrating task. Added insults and rants from bitchy old women like Karen don’t help.

The tire is changed, all is well, and Karen is back in her white 2016 Honda Civic without so much as a “thanks.” The store employees and manager even come out to offer help and ask what happened. Karen very eagerly explains in full detail what transpired and why she is so upset. The store employees and manager, who witnessed everything from inside the store, have been on the side of our hero from the beginning and just shake their heads in disbelief.

Karen, either exhausted from this catastrophe she has experienced or anxious to berate some other poor human being at another location, decides it’s time to race off and test that new tire.

Our favorite 65 year old degenerate circles back around the fuel pumps to find an exit and pulls back around next to me as I’m kneeling down besides a 4-foot manhole to yell at me one last time and remind me that I must not know who she is, she can’t wait to call my office first thing Monday morning, and that she’s glad she doesn’t to do such a lowly job and work with the likes of me.

Then, the climax of our story occurs. Karen musters up a tiny bit of spit from her dusty, wrinkly old mouth, and launches it right into the side of my head.

Michael, the super heroic and hard-working man that he is, is ready to lose his shit. This is the first job of the day, he hates the cold and snow, New Mexico is one of his least-favorite states, and he has a low tolerance for rudeness, especially since he almost always respects his elders.

Karen speeds off immediately after her display of emotion, never to be seen again. The store manager watches this go down and comes back out to see if Michael is okay after what Karen did.

Honestly, this is a fairly normal day in Michael’s life. People are rude, have bad days, want to take frustration out on the guy messing up their routine, and are usually not awful people. Michael drinks a coffee and goes on about his day, and cut it a couple hours short to find a hotel.

Don’t be like Karen.

Stay classy, and I’ll see you at the next stop.

The Woman

Everyone needs someone. I firmly believe that and always have. Some people live a lonely existence of searching for the one and never quite find them, or worse, settle for what they have. No bueno.

You need to take the time and have the patience to figure out what you want and who you are before you start looking for the right person. Once you do, you’d be surprised how quickly the woman of your dreams will fall out of the sky. All men are different and are all looking for something specific, as are women.

The perfect woman could be a Spanish teacher at an alternative high school, a loan officer, an astronaut, or maybe a dog trainer. She might be a cat lover, she may be allergic to cats. Perhaps she doesn’t want children and neither do you, just travel and live for each other. Maybe she has kids and doesn’t want more unless it’s right. She may want to chop all her hair off even if you like long hair, and you’ll love it no matter what. She might not like to drink too often. Then again, she may like to go to casinos and black out.

Lots of different qualities make for the right woman. The right woman for you may not be the right woman for someone else. Again, it takes time and patience to figure out what you’re looking for. And a bit of trial and error with some women in person. But she exists and will be worth the wait. You’ll talk on the phone for hours at a time and not realize it, talking about everything under the sun, serious and silly. You’ll miss each other at random times throughout the day and night. You may not always have the time to speak with each other but the feelings are there and won’t go away, and you’ll both understand that that’s ok.

My point is the right woman for everyone is out there somewhere and is looking for you just as much as you are looking for her. Be patient, know who you are and what you want, and take a chance once in a while.

For all the women reading this, the same thing goes for you, but the opposite.

Stay classy, and I’ll see you at the next stop.