Not sure if I’ve previously mentioned, but if you didn’t know, in my next life I could be a diplomat to Korea or Charlie Sheen’s Publicist. Why, you ask?
Have you met The Husband? Over the years, I have smoothed out more than a few sticky situations with the man who literally has no filter. I am the good cop to his bad, the Uni-Kitty to his President Business, the sun to his snowstorm. So, it came as a surprise to all when I put my size 7 1/2 in my mouth while chatting with his relatively NEW Boss a few months back.
Remember that November post about my encounter at a charity-work function with reality TV star Christos from Decades? That was the setting where I decided to chat it up with The Husband’s boss. She is at the top of her game, literally one of the highest ranked female executives in Financial Services. P.S. She’s getting her PhD from the Sorbonne. So again, about a decade ago when I was the *height* of my career in FNSVCS, I might have had something to chat with her about. At least we could have discussed low interest rates on fixed annuities. Fast forward these illustrious few years of breast pumps, homeade organic banana avocado mash and 2 nd grade common core homework, not sure I had much that would picque her interest. I was getting nervous- I have something to say to EVERYONE…I racked The Husband’s brain, she likes college football and she is a devotee of the Fox News Business Channel. I was going to be in trouble. But, Bingo! Her father was also a public high school teacher. I could do some funny Walter White analogies. So, what turned out to be a completely bad idea, I decided to be my satirical, self deprecating …self. Enter…ME.
Did I mention she had flown halfway around the world to be at this function, so she was a titch jet lagged?
As we were chatting (and she was quite nice to me, I did not feel judged for being my husband’s drycleaning pick-er-upper), I threw out the whole Breaking Bad, public high school teacher, Walter White stuff.
* crickets *
Instead of merely explaining the TV show and quickly excusing myself to grab some more sausage balls, I tried to be my witty (self described) self. “You are one of those annoyingly smart people who don’t watch TV, aren’t you????”
* more crickets *
She didn’t laugh, instead she kind of just looked at me and inquired if I just called her an annoying smart person. I saw my husband’s head swivel and tilt just a little as if an avalanche was coming.
* cue in loud, squeaky crickets *
No, I begged off. You are annoyingly smart. That’s adverby…much different from annoying.
Good news, along with my epically brilliant cousin Giovanni, the orignal ASP, The Husband’s Boss also has a sense of humor. In the half-o-dozen times we’ve conversed since I gave her the designation, she mentions my faux pas with a laughter.
So, I have conclusions…
The world needs these brilliant Mensa people. They do appreciate the rest of us toiling in averageness. GROUP HUG!
I really need to stop making such an ASP of myself, huh?