Friends,
This is the time of year when our monied elders come out from their summer hiding places in Idaho and Canada and migrate to the Coachella Valley. Actually, the annual migration may serve to empower some who never left the desert. People in the service sector aren’t happy, like the checkers at the upscale supermarket I stopped at yesterday…
A woman who looked like Iggy Pop if he’d stopped working out decided that she’d let everybody in the checkout line wait while she took off to pick out flowers. Her food purchase was pending in the register, so everyone in the queue surely wouldn’t mind waiting out her pokey and painfully deliberative decision-making process. Once she picked her poinsettia, Princess Jerky Treat shoved me aside to figure out how to work the payment terminal.
The checkout clerks looked at me and offered a wan smile and a little shrug that told me all I needed to know—”Sorry about that, but we’ve got to deal with these fragile monsters for the next four months.”
Rich, entitled, poor spacial awareness. I feel for the service industry. They’re gonna hear “be a dear” and will have to comp a lot of soup and breadsticks through March.
Keep a kind thought in your hearts for the poor kids down there who can’t get a job writing reverse mortgages, won’t you?
Your pal,
– bob