Apr 27 2009
Rules are not made to be broken
I crave structure. When I was growing up my parents had a lot of rules. When I went to school, there were a lot of rules. I think part of the reason I decided to become a lawyer is because of all the rules. But, I later learned most of the rules of law have exceptions. Oh, and they are boring rules. But the point is I firmly believe that a society needs strict rules. Clearly with the economy gone to shit the rules have been broken. But lately, I have noticed other rules being broken. Rules that I never thought would be broken, and it has shaken me to my core. First, last week on Millionaire Matchmaker, one of the Millionaires broke the cardinal rule and had sex before being in a committed monogamous relationship. I was waiting for the moment when Patty would enforce her rules. I mean after the verbal lashing she gave to the rent-a-date for letting the Millionaire buy her milk for free (I understand that the phrase is get the milk for free but the women on this show are certainly paid for their services), I was expecting her to impose her rule with vigor. But, the unimaginable happened: Patty did nothing. She kept the ho in the “database” and she probably set up the millionaire with another “soul mate.” Second, I have come to expect the few standard gentlemanly gestures. I do not expect anyone to open my door, but I do expect him to hold the door open to the person behind, to let me in the elevator first, and to let me out of the elevator first. Well, Fat Bastard is oblivious to these few simple courtesies. I mean, a man is supposed to carry your things, take your coat, open you door, etc. Today, Fat Bastard made me hold his stuff, hang his coat, and he jumps in front of me to get in the door and then does not hold it open. But the worst is his elevator behavior. He pushes in on elevators that are nearly at capacity and shakes his fat jelly around until the people make way. I am then stuck in the little crevice in the corner, having narrowly escaped being disemboweled by the elevator doors. His elevator exits are the greatest display of rule-breaking. He does not let me, the woman, leave the elevator first (even though I am the nearest to the door). Instead, he will start pushing through the exit at the exact same time as when I start moving. This is on top of the fact that he is covered in white powder, makes gross noises, scratches his big sty on his eye and then germs it around, and many other offenses to the rules of common decency. I mean it is possible that he is the originator of Swine Flu. In other words, he even breaks the rules of nature. Third, and most scarring, occurred a few hours ago. I was in a meeting with 2 partners. One of the partners started describing the issue we were to research. He would do various gestures for emphasis and even tap the desk several times. But, then it happened. He took his hand down towards the table for what I assumed would be another little drum session. But, no, the hand went past the desk. It kept going. Wait is he? . . . UM YES HE IS. He stuck his hand down his pants, he scratched down there for a while (3 seconds according to my count) and then he took his hand out and sniffed his two fingers. I think there was never a greater instance of a rule-breaking workplace activity, including on office sitcoms. So what do I do in this world gone mad? There is no order, no rules. I mean I might as well ask a man out, or wear a cowboy hat, or steal digital music if there are no rules anymore. NOTE: I am such a stickler for rules I cannot even fathom interesting ways to break them. This blogisode is dedicated to the memory of the great Bea Arthur who was always a rule-breaker. I loved her on Golden Girls and I am pretty sure that if I took the quiz on Facebook I would be her in the “Which Golden Girl Are You Quiz?” (which I will not take for fear that the quiz will reveal I am most like Stan Spornak). RIP Dorothy.
