Tuesday, October 21, 2008

It's Best When Mom Plays Too

*Later Edit* Okay, so after various text messages saying things like, "What the hell was your blog about?" I've decided to set the stage. It's a cold October Tuesday morning. I am at work. I read an article, and immediately go to my mom's office to request one. The following is the resulted conversation.

"But Moh-ohm. I want a subatomic PARTICLE COLLIDER."

She's laughing at me. This is serious. "Like the one in France?" she says, with disbelief.


"There's another one? Is it smaller? Say, can it fit in a breadbox?"

I look down. "No."

She's shaking her head now. "Honey."

"It's in Switzerland."

"Mmm-hmmm," she lilts, "and where would you put it?"

"I dunno. In the basement. Doug The Landlord won't care. There's room by the washing machines."

"And who will pay for this...particle collider?"

Now I'm drawing lines on the carpet with my foot. "Well, you know, some jackass stole my wallet, so...can you spot me?"

She shakes her head and raises her eyebrows from behind her desk. "What's a down payment on a particle collider gonna cost me?"

"I dunno. Couple grand."

Damn. She doesn't believe me. "You sure it's not, like, a couple trillion?"

"Maybe. But I totally want one, and I promise I won't break it, and the second I find the God particle I'll tell you first thing."

She's laughing. "Okay, that's enough of this. Get back to work."

Puppy dog eyes. Pleading.

"Now, don't go doing that. Life is hard."

"But everyone in Switzerland has one."

"Well, then they all obviously have better moms than you."

"Please? I'll be your best friend. I just wanna show those bastards at CERN who's running the show."

"And who's that?"

"Well, you of course." Winning smile. Sell it.

She sighs, puffs out her cheeks, and darts her eyes around the room before she leans forward and whispers, "Would you care if I just skimmed some cash from the endowment fund?"

"But Mom," I am shocked at her suggestion. "What about serving inner-city students and creating more effective educational opportunities for the neediest children in Chicago? Like in Dangerous Minds and Sister Act II?"

"Well, I think your particle collider is more important than their education, honey."

"Thanks mom. You're the best ever."

"Here. Don't forget to take a Butterfinger."

"Yes sir, Madam Controller."


*EDIT* I think, as an afterthought, it's imperative to add that I work with my mother. There is no way I could have gotten a credible job on my own. Employers, like teachers, are immediately guarded once I walk in a room. Interviews never go well.

You can feel it when you make people tense.

Come to think of it, that's a pattern I have with nearly everyone I meet.

Oh well. Fuck 'em.



paperback reader said...

I blame a generation raised on Lord of the Rings movies and Harry Potter books. In my day, we had "bullies" who "beat up kids with dreams of scientific success." What is this world coming to?

American in Sydney said...

Thanks god yo mama knows what's important.

Bluestreak said...

LMAO right now at your Edit re working with your Mom. I´m in the unfortunate position of having to interview people at times and if you ever came in for an interview, all you would have to do is tell one of your stories and I would be all, "you´re hired, biatch". Even if your shirt was stained and you hadn´t combed your hair. I´m flexible like that.

Bluestreak said...

p.s. If I could make you a mixed tape it would have this song on it:


Rassles said...

Pistols: There is something about you that makes me giggle. But I agree, the art of bullying is dying, and it must be preserved so future generations can be persecuted, if nothing else.

Flor: I know, right?

Blue: Pretty sure I would not be uncombed, but stained is a definite possibility. When your tits are a shelf system, things collect.

Bluestreak said...

Dude, I have no tits, which makes anything on the shirt that shouldn´t be there immediately stand out, cause there´s no distraction.

Gypsy said...

I'm all for nepotism. As long as it's not of the Bush variety.

Rassles said...

For sure, Gypsy. At least I started out as a temp and they chose to promote me, much to the mom's surprise, shame, and dismay. She was sure I was worthless too. I believe her exact words, when she found out, were, "I cannot believe they're willing to give you that much responsibility. You can't even wake up on your own."

Anonymous said...

I *must* use this statement with my children. Thank you Rassles' mother.

"Well, then they all obviously have better moms than you."

I imagine her at her desk looking like June Cleaver and casually throwing out that statement as she looks at you over the top of her glasses.