Don't Step on the Rake

     The dictionary defines a “rake” as a fashionable or wealthy man of dissolute or promiscuous habits. You are probably more familiar with the synonyms: playboy, libertine, or profligate.  While the above definition is a bit dramatic and somewhat overblown, you can’t deny the allure. What is it that makes these men so magnetic and why do we bother?

   

       I’ve had my own personal experiences with the rakish sort. One such experience comes to mind. He didn’t seem like trouble, but he did look like everything I liked. As we talked, we found that we had many similar interests. Many conversations of music and films filled the air between us. We went on outings, but nothing of substance. It was only a matter of time before mixed signals abounded. It became apparent that this was not going to be anything serious. I left my emotions out of the equation and proceeded onward. I went on dates with other potential suitors, but I confess, sometimes a lady likes a distraction.

Don Draper

  

      For months our similar interests were enough to keep me interested. At a certain point, I needed to focus. I didn’t have time for blurred vision, tinted lenses, or double vision. I cut him loose and sailed away. My life moves in one direction; forward. Honestly, this is the most I’ve reflected on it.

    

      I sometimes wonder what drew me to him. His looks were a catalyst, but it was something more. Rakish men are captivating, unpredictable, and suave. This makes them sexy. Take James Bond, for example. Is he not the ultimate rake? He’s impeccably dressed, articulate, handsome, and an occupational risk taker. What woman wouldn’t be swayed into a bad decision? Bond may be mesmerizing, but he’s usually gone in the morning.

Bond. James Bond

   

      Some things are too intriguing to stay away from. By my estimation, there are two ways to deal with a rake. You either don’t engage them at all or you get rid of them before you get too entangled. Rakes are like wild animals; admire them from a distance, but never interact.

Bad Company

     Company luncheons are a time for comradery and relaxation. Sometimes they’re made uncomfortable by the poor manners of your companions. 

    

 A few months ago, some of my company’s managers decided to take all of the administrative assistants out to lunch for Administrative Professional’s Day. A new restaurant had opened in a neighboring suburb and that was where it was going to be held. Normally, this would have been great, but some of the other assistants aren’t my cup of tea, but I decided to make the best of it. How bad could it be?

      

When we all got to the restaurants, I was immediately struck by its beauty of its décor. It reminded me of a place Don Draper would have taken a client. The music was a mix of old and modern jazz with Sinatra thrown in for good measure. As we were seated at a round table, the complaints slowly began to start.    

      

“What’s with this music?” Christine, a sales manager, asked.

      

“I don’t know. I don’t get it,” Mark, another sales manager answered.

    

 I tried to keep my eyes in place. I resisted every urge to roll them at the nonsense I was hearing. As our drink orders were taken, I sat still and quiet.

    

 I was seated in between my department manager, Garth and a sales assistant named Lauren. On the other side of Lauren was Jocelyn.  Need I say more? If you’ve read my previous blog posts, you know she grates me. With her being pregnant, she was especially insufferable. Lauren, however, is awesome.

    

 As the appetizers made their way to the table, small talk was made. The conversation turned towards children, which was just the opening Jocelyn needed to dominate the conversation and talk about her pregnancy. This opened the floor for Mark and the local sales manager, Anderson, to talk at length about their wives’ pregnancies. Oh joy.

    

 “You’re coming back to work after this baby, right? Anderson asked. “Because most women don’t.”

      

“Wow,” I thought. “How inappropriate and incredibly sexist of you”

    

 “Yeah, I’m coming back. My first maternity leave was fine until the last three weeks. I had to get out of the house. I was looking forward to my husband coming home.”

   

  Twenty minutes of marriage and baby talk was a bit much for me. I confess, as a single, childless thirty-something, I would have preferred the electric chair than enduring more of the table’s dialogue.

     

 “This artichoke dip isn’t that great,” balked Anderson.

      

“They forgot my soup,” Mark complained.

    

 As the waiter walked past they complained louder instead of stopping him. There were 9 people in our party. It wasn’t like they ignored us. Plus, there was a larger party having what I presumed was a business lunch as well.

    

 “Excuse me,” Garth said to the waiter. “We’re missing a soup.”

      

The waiter apologized profusely and asked what kind of soup it was. In less than two minutes, the soup was on the table and ready for consumption.

    

 “Well, his tip just got smaller,” sneered Mark.

    

 By the time our meals came, I was beyond annoyed. As we ate, Jocelyn decided to regale the table with stories of every restaurant that she worked at in college. She waxed poetic about one restaurant’s gazpacho while constantly rubbing her ever present baby bump. Anytime someone mentioned their meal, she rubbed her baby bump while make a noise similar to a horse whinnying. She pretty much made the noise whenever food was mentioned even at the office. She compared her plate of food one of her former workplaces.

      

“This soup is so gross,” Mark said dramatically putting his spoon in the soup’s bowl.

      

“I’m not impressed,” complained Anderson. “We don’t need to ever come back here.”

      

Honestly, I liked the place. The ambiance was great and my salmon was wonderful. It was some of my lunch companions that were abysmal.

     

 When we got back to the office, I was ready for everyone to go back to their respective departments. What started out as a gesture of gratitude turned into an infuriating affair.

    

 A midday lunch can be the rest you need from a hectic workday. When breaking bread, try to choose the best company for the meal. If you have no choice, eat, and stay quiet. That’s what I did.

Take Your Pick

     Attraction is an interesting thing. As quickly as you have it, you can lose it just as fast. This is especially true if the other person does something to send you running in the other direction.

     A few weeks ago, Liza and I were hanging out at one of our local haunts for a "girl's night out", when I spotted a striking man walking in. He was tall and well built. His smile was mega watt. As Liza and I danced to songs and chatted, my eyes still managed to find him.

    After returning to our seats after some spirited dancing to "Footloose", Liza and I sat down.

     "Liza, look at him," I said subtly pointing.

     "Is he with that lady?" she asked pointing to a leggy blond vying for his attention.

     I'd seen her all over most of the unattached men in the place, so I knew better.

    "No, she's all over everybody," I said.

    The handsome stranger now had his back turned to greet a friend. When the friend left for another part of the bar, he began to turn around. My delight quickly turned into disgust, when he turned around with his forefinger firmly lodged up his nose. I was beyond grossed out. He didn't seem to be bothered either way.

     "Liza, look!" I loudly whispered over the music.

     "What?!" she asked.

    "He was prospecting!" I shouted while making a nose picking motion with my finger.

     She scowled almost immediately.

     "That's so gross! Are you kidding me?!"

     "Well, the thrill is gone," I said.

     No matter how attractive a person is, bad etiquette of hygiene will easily diminish their sparkle.

    

Frisky Business

     When working at a company, you sometimes have to help coworkers that are out sick. What happens when a favor goes over the limit?

     My friend, Ricki, works as a supervisor in an automotive factory. After a few not so great jobs after graduation, she was happy to land a career that she truly enjoyed. A few months ago, her supervisor was out on sick leave. He called her at the office and asked her for a small favor.

     “Could you get my cell phone out of my office and get a number for Beverly out of it.”

     “Sure,” said Ricki. “Where is it exactly?”

     “It’s on my desk in a cookie tin.”

     At that moment, she felt hesitant. Why would he not have his cell phone? Why would his phone be hidden? Especially, since he’d been in the hospital for over a week.

     “Okay,” she reluctantly agreed.

    She headed to his office searching for the phantom phone. When she found it, it was in a cookie tin, but in an open drawer in his desk. It was a cheap pay as you go flip phone. Ricki opened the phone to find Beverly’s number. Inside she found only three numbers, one of which was listed under “B”. Instantly, Ricki realized this was her supervisor’s “cheat phone”. She was disgusted and insulted that he’d asked her to assist in his dirty work. Ricki decided to call her mother, who is a higher ranking supervisor in a different department on her cell phone.

     “Don’t get roped into that,” her mom warned.

     Ricki placed the phone back where she found it and went back to her office. When her supervisor called back she told him she couldn’t find it. As it turned out her manager and this woman had an ongoing affair for years. Beverly had even worked there years before Ricki started. She’d been fired for something unrelated, but the affair was common knowledge to employees who had seniority under their belt.

    There’s nothing wrong with helping a boss with a problem. When that problem crosses ethical lines back away and let them solve it themselves. They’re the ones who created it in the first place.

Naked Ambition

     The human body is a beautiful, dynamic thing. It can do just about anything. Sometimes its exposure is too much for bystanders.

     After working out, a hot shower feels amazing. It recharges you. One evening, after an intense cardio session, I headed back to my locker after my shower. I was wrapped in my towel getting ready to get dressed, when a lady who’d just had her own shower came walking through the locker area. She was completely naked except for the towel wrapped around her hair. Of all the areas of her that needed a towel, her hair could’ve gone without.

     I silently hoped that she would go to a different area of lockers. I didn’t hope hard enough because she stopped right at the locker next to mine. I proceeded to look forward while slipping on my underwear underneath my towel.

     “How’s it going today?” the nude woman asked.

     “Fine. Thank you,” I said still looking forward.

     She began to take the towel from her hair. The whole thing seemed odd to me. I have no problem with the female body, but I only want to see my own naked. Whether she was a supermodel or a sumo wrestler, I didn’t want to see her business. If it has been in a large steam room, that would’ve been something different entirely.

     “So what’s the weather like out there?”

     Not only was she immodest, but now she was engaging me in elevator chatter. Fantastic. She had now hiked her leg up on the carpeted bench under our row of lockers and began drying it with her towel. I wished my peripheral vision hadn’t worked that day. I now was looking away as I slipped on my jeans.

     “Not sure,” I said responding to her question. “I’ve been in the rec center.”

     She must have noticed my discomfort. The lady stopped drying her leg and put her hands on her hips.

     “What’s your problem?” she asked pointedly.

     I turned around and looked her square in the eye. I couldn’t look anywhere else.

     “I’m just trying to get dressed,” I replied.

     “I’m just being friendly and you’re being rude.”

     “No, I’m getting dressed and you’re asking me questions…naked.”

     “We’re all women. This is the women’s locker room.”

     “It is the women’s locker room,” I countered. “Not Orange Is the New Black.”

     She huffed off to another locker area. I continued getting dressed.

     Nudity has its time and place. The nude form of another needn’t be pushed on anyone. A naked body is the anatomy in its truest form. Sometimes, you aren’t in the mood for someone else’s truth.

Fourth Rate First Date

     First dates are exciting. The unknown can be alluring. It gives you the opportunity to learn about someone and see where it leads. What happens when the first date is the worst date?

    A few months ago, I ventured out on a first date with a guy that I’d met during one of my “girl’s night outs” with Liza. We exchanged numbers and talked on the phone for two weeks. He seemed nice and we made plans for the Saturday of the next week.

     The day of our date started well. We went to a local pizzeria known for its slices. When we arrived, I waited in the car, assuming he was coming around to open my door. I assumed wrong. He got out and headed for the restaurant. When I realized he wasn’t going to open my door, I opened it myself. Strike one, I thought to myself. Once inside the restaurant the food and conversation were good… at first.

     “Wow. You sure can put it away,” He said.

     “What?” I asked out of surprise. Every man knows better than to mention a woman’s appetite, whether it’s intended as a compliment or not.

     “You just eat a lot to be so small. It’s cool.”

     “I eat like a person. Not a sparrow,” I quipped.

      My blood became lava. Sensing this he finished his pizza and requested the bill. Strike two.

    At that point, I was ready to go to the comedy club we were heading to. As we headed out to the parking lot, I opened my door and got in the car. He’d already proven he wasn’t going to. On the way to the comedy club, he regaled me stories of his past ex- girlfriends. It became apparent why he’d never been married and was currently single.

     Once at the comedy club, we had a great time, mostly because he wasn’t talking. The comedians were hilarious and it was a good crowd. We’d chosen an early evening show because I had to be to church early in the morning.

     As we headed back into town, he started eyeing the various clubs and bars on the street. I knew what was coming.

     “Do you want to do something else or…?”

     “No,” I said. “I told you. I have church tomorrow.”

     “Well, I want to do something else.”

     “You’re free to do that, after you take me home.”

     Strike three. I was fit to be tied.

    When we got to my house, I politely thanked him for dinner. I didn’t want to be as rude as he was.

     “I’d walk you to your door, but I know you can handle it,” he said.

     I was floored. His unbridled rudeness had now reached new heights. Strike three, part two. No possible hope in the ballpark.

    

     “You’re right. I can handle most anything,” I stated calmly.

    

     I got out of the car as he was talking and heading to my door. He called and texted me for three straight days, all of which I ignored. His rudeness didn’t deserve a response.

Unfriendly Skies

     Traveling is a great way to broaden your horizons. You see things and meet people you wouldn’t ordinarily. It’s wonderful to have these new experiences under your belt. What happens when your odyssey is hindered by others?

     Last Spring, I went to New Jersey for a weekend workshop. I had an early flight and after getting through TSA, was sitting at the waiting area of my plane’s gate. Everyone was on a mobile device or having quiet conversations. It was before 7 am and no one wanted to be loud, let alone awake. CNN played on the television in the waiting area, which normally would’ve been fine. Not this morning however. One woman was especially cantankerous. Not helping matters, was the fact that the missing plane from Malaysian Airlines Flight 370 had just disappeared. This woman took special issue with CNN’s report.

 

     “Oh my God!” she fumed. “Why WOULD they play this? Don’t they know we’re about to board a plane?!”

     Apparently, not only was she bothered by how inconsiderate CNN’s news delivery was, but she wanted us to know. It just seemed odd that she thought a news network was out to ruin her flight. I tried desperately to ignore her rant. I was sleepy and just wanted to get on my plane.

     As the plane began to board, I hope the enraged woman would be calm on the flight.  I hoped in vain. No sooner had I taken my seat did she come barging up the tiny aisle with a massive quilt jumbled in front her. She pushed past me, bumping my arm hard as I was reading. I chose to let that slide because if I hadn’t I would’ve gotten kicked off the plane. I confess, I am not a morning person.

 

    When the flight ascended, I heard grumbles from the back of the plane. About five minutes later, she must have fallen asleep because there was silence. Sweet, glorious silence. When the plane landed at O’Hare, I grabbed my carry on and hurried off. I silently prayed she wasn’t on my next flight. Thankfully, she wasn’t.

     When traveling it’s best to take your manners with you instead of leaving them at home. A plane is a vessel containing people of various backgrounds and social graces. Let the other passengers remember the flight instead of you.

No Means No

     Many times people agree to things just to keep down chaos. In truth, they don’t want to say yes. If they don’t say yes, they explain themselves so that they seem less callous. Is there merit to saying no and meaning it?

     As a girl, you’re taught to be agreeable and never rock the boat. The worst thing you can be viewed as is “mean”. This is highly unrealistic and contradictory to what boys are taught. There is nothing wrong with saying no and meaning it.

     An example that comes to mind is the company Christmas party. It’s annual and absolutely dreadful. At least 7 people asked me why I wasn’t going last year. To be honest, many of my coworkers are rude and have made my job difficult. Why would I ever spend time with them outside of work? I never go to the party anyway, so why mess with tradition? I held firm. I wished them a good time, but I was staunch about my lack of attendance. Best. Decision. Ever. On Monday, the office buzzed with the mishaps of the Christmas party.

     In the grand tradition of company parties, foolishness ensued. One coworker was not only inebriated but improperly dressed to boot. He was so drunk, that he knocked over things and had gotten the attention of two of the managers. Not to be outdone, a wife of one of the managers was flirty with a few members of male staff and not her husband.

     When saying no, go with your gut. Stick with your decision without wavering. Most importantly, you don’t have to explain yourself. You’ve made your decision and that’s good enough.

The Best Policy

 

     From the time we’re children, we’re taught that we should always be honest. As we grow older, the waters get murky. We lie to get jobs, we lie to gain popularity among our peers, and we even lie in relationships.  Is the truth really something we want?

     As a little girl, I was taught to always be honest.  Having been raised by Baptist minister grandfather, I knew since infancy that honesty was important to character. However, my honesty often got me in trouble when I was a kid.

     I am reminded of an incident that happened in kindergarten that landed me in the “unhappy corner”. At show and tell a little girl was waxing poetic about becoming a big sister after the stork visited her house. I knew this was untrue. Months earlier my grandfather had told me the truth. My grandmother was too embarrassed to tackle my curiosity as to how “people were made.” Luckily, my grandfather was not so easily shocked.

     “What, Crystal?” my teacher sighed as my hand shot in the air.

     “That’s not true!” I shouted.

     “Yes, it is,” the girl protested.

     “No, it’s not,” I countered.

    

     “Storks don’t deliver babies. Your parents had sex,” I said confidently.

     My teacher was in shock. Seconds passed in absolute silence, which is amazing in a kindergarten class.

    “Crystal Demps! To the Unhappy Corner!” my teacher shouted.

     “But I told the truth!” I shouted as my teacher forcefully escorted me to the stool in the corner.

    I sat in the corner fuming.  It felt like I was facing the wall for hours. Eventually, my teacher came in to talk to me as the other children played outside during recess.

  

      

     “Crystal, face forward,” my teacher ordered.

     I turned around slowly. My time in the corner had changed me. I was insolent and flippant.

     “Do you know why you’re in the corner?”

     “Because I should’ve lied,” I said sharply.

     “No. You should always tell the truth.”

     “Then why are you punishing me?”

     “Natalie’s going to go home and ask her parents questions that they’re not ready for.”

     “She can come over my house. My grandpa will answer anything,” I said proudly.

    “That isn’t the point.”

    “I’m in trouble for telling the truth?” I asked.

     “No.”

     “Can I go play?”

     “No. I think it’s best you stay in here for the rest of recess.”

     “I told the truth,” I reasoned.

     My teacher gave me one last look and headed back outside to the other children. In that moment I learned the real truth: People don’t want to hear honesty. Especially, out of a kindergartner.

     As an adult, I’m still honest. I’ve learned that some situations warrant silence instead of the truth. Honesty is not something everyone can handle. Ignorance is easier to digest for some people, and that the honest truth.

 

Stay Out of the Shade

     Less than subtle insults have been around since the dawn of man. Even the nicest people are subject to them without fair warning. When faced with such rudeness, you have a decision to make. Should you stand in the sun or throw a little “shade” of your own to the offending party?

     I’m reminded of an incident in college when someone attempted to block out my sunshine. I was with my friend, Miguel and we were heading to our college’s courtyard to meet up with some mutual acquaintances. It was a gorgeous day that begged to be enjoyed. As Miguel and I spoke to our friends, I noticed an unfamiliar face. Sensing this, my friend, Julian decided to make an introduction.

     “Crystal,” Julian said. “This is Nina.”

     “Hi, Nina. I’m…”

     “Demps,” she interrupted. “I’ve heard of you.”

     The stage was set and we were merely players. I couldn’t pick this girl out of a line up and she was pitching me attitude? Game on.

     “I like your sunglasses, “she said.

     “Thank you, “I said thinking the situation was perking up.

     “My sunglasses are knockoffs too, but they’re cute.” She said with a grin.

     Miguel shot me a look. He’s been my friend long enough to know this wasn’t going to end well.

     “Mine aren’t fake. I got them from Neiman’s,” I said.

     “What’s Neiman’s?” she asked puzzled.

     “Exactly,” I said narrowing my gaze.

     “Okay,” Miguel said sensing imminent trouble. “Julian, we’re gonna get going. I’m starving and Demps could use some water to cool off.”

     I confess, I’ve always been good with one liners and quips. It’s genetic. Wit is a requirement on my mother’s side of the family.

     “I thought you were going to scratch her eyes out,” Miguel said as we headed to the car.

     “She started it. Besides I wouldn’t ruin my polish on her.”

     Insults are sometimes unavoidable. No matter how blatant or subtle, they’re still insults. How you react is completely up to you

 

 

Beware of the Leapfrog

On the weekends there is nothing better than having plans. It breaks up the monotony of the work week. What happens when you get an invite only to find it’s for someone else?

One Friday evening, I was hanging out with a bunch of friends and acquaintances. One associate and I started to talk. As we chatted, we made plans to hang out the next day.  I had some appointments in the morning and afternoon but promised to make contact after that.

The next day as promised, I texted to see what was up. As it turned out she was free. Then something curious happened. She asked if a mutual friend was available.  At the time I thought nothing of it. When I mentioned that he was already at an engagement, she said she’d check around to see if anything else was going on. As you might have already guessed, that call/text never came. If she wanted to hang out with the other friend, why not invite them instead?  Why “leap” over someone?

The lesson I learned is that when plans are being formed, make sure they won’t fall through. I also learned to make sure the person actually wants to have plans with you. If you’re just a “place holder”, don’t waste your time. Time is a precious thing; don’t waste it on invites you weren’t meant for.