People rarely say or do things to amaze me anymore. I hate to sound jaded, but, it’s true. Although- God’s honest truth- they totally baffle me at the same time. Sometimes, I wonder if it’s me. Am I the one who’s wacky?! Ok, technically- yes. Yes, I am wacky in my own way (or so my husband keeps telling me), but… and here’s the but – I’m pretty sure my kind of wacky is not socially offensive, I mean, I’ve some knack for social graces that encompass all the basics: Tact. Class. Propriety…and for the love of all things decent- decency.
Lately, though, I find myself frequently questioning if I’m part of a dying breed. Could I be becoming a modern day dinosaur, I wonder? Maybe I’ve just become a cranky old bitty?Take for example this ladies restroom conversation I had the dismay to be caught in between. Now mind you, it’s certainly and by far not the worst of offenses I’ve witnessed and heard, but nonetheless illustrates a point:
Scene: Restaurant bathroom. I am in the center stall in a row of three, in a contemporary/ New York City inspired bar-restaurant geared more toward a late 20ish-30ish crowd who either haven’t dined out enough yet to know the food is fancy looking, but sub-par quality, or they just don’t care because they just want to look stylish and drink over-priced martinis . Not usually our type of place: noisy, trendy, young. But, we’d had a great dinner (and drinks) in a nearby restaurant, and we weren’t ready to call it a night. The restaurant, though, had other ideas. Hence, the more ‘happening’ place. Let me share with you the exchange between two post college women. * Forgive me for stereotyping, BUT- the dead giveaway to their ages was that nearly every single sentence ended with an upward inflection- as if every statement was actually a question.
” Ohh. Myyy. Goddd-a..” Starts stall number three. She sounded startlingly like a Kardashian.. each syllable drawn out nasally, and as if she were about to fall into a fit of narcolepsy.
I, at first, think she is speaking to me. Now, listen, I’m a stereotypical New Englander, I avoid eye contact, touching, and especially conversations with strangers, (fellow New Englanders- stop. Don’t get defensive and say how nice you are. That’s great, really. It’s just not normal.) but just as I grudgingly open my mouth to respond with a question of her well-being, another voice, coming from stall one responds,
“Oh, my Godd, Sta-ceyyyy? What the fu- uckkk?” Again, another nasally, drawn out monotone. Did they practice this?!
“Oh my Goddd. Bec-caaaa. Are you still in herreee-?” Um, clearly, Stacey is not grasping the logic: If Becca answered her, then she must..still..be..here. Right? Anyhow, let them continue:
” So, Oh, my God. Seriously? (Seriously? the word ‘seriously’ lasted five minutes) I, like, went spray tanning today, right? And, I am like so fucking pissed off right now? Because, I just, like peed? And , like, it just went down my leg? And now, I, like, have this streak down my freaking leg. Seriously, I’m like, what the fuck right now? I don’t even..”
I’m in my stall. Slow blinking. Did she really just announce that? Did a grown woman just announce, in a public bathroom stall, that she peed on herself?
Becca laughs (Or, at least, I think it was a laugh. It was some sound, like: ‘eh heh heh hehhhh’, meant to signify that she was acknowledging her friends awkward statement), and says, ” Oh, my Goddd. that so sucks. I would be, like soo mad if I were you.” Stall number one flushes. Stall number three answers her phone.
“Um, heyyy.. I’m like, totally in the bathroom right now? Can I like call you back, in like a minute?” Pause. “ Like, seriously, I will call you back, bitch. Wait- Oh, my God, do you know what just seriously happened to me?” She repeats, word for word, her self peeing incident. And then flushes the toilet. And then continues to talk on the phone.
And I’m thinking, ‘Who, I mean who on earth would want to share that information with anyone? And whyyyy??? Really? Really, right now, am I stuck here listening to this?’ Of course, I don’t have to wait for these Kardasha-klones to leave. But I want to. And then, once I’m sure they’ve gone, I want to get back out to my husband and make him listen to me recount that charming story, so that he, too, can share in my dismay.
About now, you might be thinking- not a big deal. Amusing even. Truthfully, I was laughing when I told my husband, who, thankfully shared in my chagrin at the lack of class, and laughed at my imitation of the reality TV star voices. I’m kinda good at impressions, I’m weirdly proud to say. It was, on its own merits, funny. But, what makes it sad to me, is that it’s not just them, those two young women. It’s everywhere you turn. This total apathy towards propriety, it has spread like a disease (yikes, think: Ebola) passing from one to the next, with seemingly no end or cure in sight.
So, over my coffee this morning, I started thinking: maybe they (The Classless Ones) could use some helpful tips? Then I thought, ‘I can do that!’ I can help our younger generation of women find their inner Classy!
So, without further ado, (and geared towards the 20 and up crowd) here are my Top 10 Tips To Keep It Classy Ladies:
10) When greeting friends in in a public meeting place (other than a bar or nightclub, I’ll be fair) try to refrain from screeching loudly, “Hey Bitches! What the fuck took you so long!” I think that, unless you are making fun of women who still refer to one another as each others “bitches”, that it’s time to retire that oh-so-cute endearment.
9) Selfies. Now, I love taking selfies, I do. But, if you take a moment to scroll through the typical girls Facebook photo album, you’re likely to see that every single picture is one of two poses: tongue out/drunk girl at the party pose, or: sexy pouty lip pic. How are you not bored with yourself yet? Enough!
8) Lose the Kardashian voice. Yes, they are famous, wealthy, and get absurd amounts of attention for their antics. You, my dear, will not get those things by simply talking like them. The Kardashians, whatever we may think of them (and despite their voices) are extremely driven and motivated to make money, and you- sipping a pumpkin latte in Starbucks for the fourth time this week- are not. Use your big girl voice. NOW.
7) When complaining to your friends about ‘how, like, your boyfriend is, like, such a dick’ and ‘like, what does that even mean when he says ____(blah, blah, blah’ STOP. While you are dwelling on his every word and action 20 out of 24 hours, he is at the gym. Or school. Or work. Getting Shit Done. Granted, this is not an issue of class, but it does reflect on your self respect. Class and self respect should go hand in hand.
6) Please do not wear a size 2 when you’re a size 10. Dress your body in the clothes that actually fit it. You will look a thousand times more attractive, I promise. And no matter what size you are: No one, save the dirty pervs, wants to see your vagina. Put on some shorts or skirt that covers that shit up, for the love of God.
5) Five is a tough one for me- watch your mouth, ladies. I admit, I swear like a sailor. But… I try to be aware of my company, and my surroundings when I do. So, not asking you to stop- but to just try not to stream a monologue of profanities right next to the table with four kids, whose jaws are to the ground at learning all those new colorful words.
4) Please- dislodge your tongue from your boyfriends throat, and keep your breasts in your shirt in public places. This is not an audition for Girls Gone Wild, and we can guess that you love him by the way you glare at the waitress (and any other female) for looking at him.
3) Ah, can’t forget us older women. Ladies, oh ladies. Granted, when we were in our hot 20’s, we probably turned on quite a few of the boys when we dirty danced with each other on the dance floor. But now? Now we just look silly. Please stop.
2) If you are in your 20’s, 30’s, 40’s, 50’s and up- Hello Kitty is NOT for you. Just stop.
1) Ladies, for all things good and right in the world: No one, save perhaps your physician and gynecologist, need to hear about your bodily functions. No more, ‘Hey, I peed on myself’. Stop shouting out, ‘Oh, my, God, my fricking period, get me chocolate!’ Don’t talk about your UTI. Don’t ask if ‘anyone can smell that’. Do not burp the alphabet, even if you’re really good at it. Furthermore, after a meal, or beverage, it is unnecessary to loudly announce that ‘ I have to burp’ and then proceed to loudly man-belch- just because you can. Girls. Sigh. Let us not confuse our equality with men as a reason to be as vulgar as they can be. Not a competition.
Now, I know there’s going to be a very large segment of our female population that will take offense at this. They’re going to say, I don’t give a fuck what other people think. And, yes- they are totally entitled. To each her own, I suppose. BUT. But, to the Ladies Who Elect To Have No Class: all I’ll say is that you will be treated based upon your actions/behavior. What you give is what you get in return. If that’s all working for you, then great. But if not…? And, I’ll let you in on a little secret: I love toilet humor( like, literally- I crack up at fart jokes. Embarrassing, but true) I love ‘stupid’ humor. I can watch every Will Ferrell movie twice, and laugh harder the second time than the first. As I mentioned, I swear (to a point where my husband has even raised an eyebrow at me). So I’m not this uptight etiquette snob, I just simply know the time and place for everything, and I’m just asking that we all put forth just a little more effort. Please.
Now, carry on with your classy self!