Tales From the Showhouse

12 10 2013

I’ve neglected my posting of late. The truth is, I am absolutely swamped with work. I started a new job over the summer…going full time with a company I had done some consulting work with. It’s a good opportunity, a lot more money, but its taken a lot of time away from my home life, my sleep schedule, and the company I own. One of the “plusses” to this job is that the company is genius at marketing. Tie ins with national magazines, lots of PR events, lots of press. And once or twice a  year, they do a major showhouse that is tied to a national magazine. One such house is open now at a beautiful community in the middle of nowhere, just west of Bumfuck, Georgia.

The house opened a few weeks ago with an event that hosted over 400 people. The driveway, naturally, did not hold that many cars, so we used the country clubs golf carts to bring guests to the house.

And that proved to be a mistake for one poor guest. Bless her heart, she suffered from vertigo, and the drive from the parking lot to the house set her spinning. She did her best to soldier on, but as she made her way onto the rear terrace, the contents of her stomach emptied onto the newly laid flagstone. Embarassed, she struggled through the shoulder-to-shoulder mass of guests trying to escape, only to find herself pinned in the foyer by people coming in. Wave number two came, and whatever was left in her digestive system came flying, loudly, out onto the floor.

We hired a part time girl to help out at the showhouse…shes on hand to help answer questions, tidy up, or whatever else needs doing while it is open for tours. She grew up in one of the suburbs of Bumfuck in a conservative, deeply religious household, and attends an equally conservative, deeply religious university.  One morning, I mentioned that I was starving, and that I’d hoped to find a restaurant on the way in to grab a quick breakfast, but was disappointed that all I passed was a Captain D’s. “You should have turned by the new Home Depot.” she offered, “There are a lot of really good restaurants back there.”

“Oh? I didn’t see the signs.”

“Yeah, well they’re nice places, its not fast food. There’s a Steak N Shake and an Applebees.”

Bless her heart.

And finally, a couple of well dressed ladies came through the house today, and one of my coworkers was making small talk with them. When they mentioned the small town they were from, my coworker said she knew the town well, that a good friend from college grew up there. One of the ladies asked for the friend’s name, and when she realized it was a common acquaintance, launched into a 20 minute gossip session in which this person’s ex husband was revealed to be a gun smuggler, that person’s stepson was into meth, and this man’s first wife “was, is, and always will be bat shit crazy!”  I was a little shocked that someone would dish so unashamedly to perfect strangers, and my coworker seemed to be as well. She asked how it was that she knew the mutual friend.

“Oh, I’m her Sunday School teacher.”

Amen.

 

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