what fun is a vacation if you don't relive it?
Get Outta Here: Chief Cheer Officer
Yep, that’s the title my journalism colleagues have dubbed me at an online community we belong to. I was so flattered they would consider me upbeat, a coach, a role model.
But I mainly feel guilty for having snookered them.
You see, I stumbled onto this posting the same day my husband got exasperated with me and snapped, “Do you have to be such a poop at times?” – only he didn’t say “poop.” He used the more vulgar version, and didn’t realize his cell phone had unmuted him so that suddenly everyone on the international phone conference he was multitasking was eavesdropping on our little spat.
It was truly worthy of a Southwest Airline’s “wanna get away?” commercial.
Earlier that week, I met a friend for lunch at The Cheesecake Factory and ordered a breakfast item that consisted of cheese enchiladas on a bed of black beans and topped with three eggs over easy. It was messy, and delicious. At least I thought so until the lady at the next table leaned over, and asked most disgustedly, “What’s that thing on your plate?” Well, um … black beans, which you can obviously see, and eggs – there aren’t many other foods that look like eggs -- and cheese enchiladas. In case I didn’t get her first hint that my lunch was unacceptable, she made a nasty face and just stared at me. I gave it right back.
I wasn’t exactly her candidate for Cheesecake Chief Cheer Officer.
And while I’m confessing my sins, just 48 hours later I was a whiney baby after IU lost its first game in the NCAA tournament. Not while my guests were there, of course. I waited until they were in their cars to start throwing things. Get outta here – no way was I going to play the CCO role under those circumstances.
But now that I’m just a few hours away from my next trip, I might see my way clear to pick up my scepter, put the crown back on my head, and once again encourage my colleagues to reach their personal bests. That is, if I bother to find an Internet connection.
But I mainly feel guilty for having snookered them.
You see, I stumbled onto this posting the same day my husband got exasperated with me and snapped, “Do you have to be such a poop at times?” – only he didn’t say “poop.” He used the more vulgar version, and didn’t realize his cell phone had unmuted him so that suddenly everyone on the international phone conference he was multitasking was eavesdropping on our little spat.
It was truly worthy of a Southwest Airline’s “wanna get away?” commercial.
Earlier that week, I met a friend for lunch at The Cheesecake Factory and ordered a breakfast item that consisted of cheese enchiladas on a bed of black beans and topped with three eggs over easy. It was messy, and delicious. At least I thought so until the lady at the next table leaned over, and asked most disgustedly, “What’s that thing on your plate?” Well, um … black beans, which you can obviously see, and eggs – there aren’t many other foods that look like eggs -- and cheese enchiladas. In case I didn’t get her first hint that my lunch was unacceptable, she made a nasty face and just stared at me. I gave it right back.
I wasn’t exactly her candidate for Cheesecake Chief Cheer Officer.
And while I’m confessing my sins, just 48 hours later I was a whiney baby after IU lost its first game in the NCAA tournament. Not while my guests were there, of course. I waited until they were in their cars to start throwing things. Get outta here – no way was I going to play the CCO role under those circumstances.
But now that I’m just a few hours away from my next trip, I might see my way clear to pick up my scepter, put the crown back on my head, and once again encourage my colleagues to reach their personal bests. That is, if I bother to find an Internet connection.
Comment
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Comment by Julie Sturgeon on March 26, 2008 at 9:41am
- I've ordered apple pie before noon so many times, I don't recall that one particular instance.
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Comment by CW Merv on March 26, 2008 at 9:34am - You seem to have quite a career ticking people off based on your food orders. Remember that diner we were at one time when the waitress was just giving you the death-stare because you ordered apple pie before noon? I don't remember where we were, but it sure was funny.
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