An Essay Based on a True Experience .....by Richard Koss
I don’t feel old and a lot of people (well, at least some) tell me I
certainly don’t look my age. But I’m really tired. I’m tired of all the
politically correct crap that surrounds me and I’m tired of television news
anchors and reporters and expert consultants and observers and talk show
personalities who attempt to brainwash and intimidate us. Although much of
this intimidation is subtle, it is nevertheless manifested in their
repetitious, boring, reminders and references as to how we should all be
acting, speaking and thinking. Not necessarily in that order, but it’s
always there.
Another great source of irritation to me is the fact that anyone who
becomes a celebrity after reaching a pinnacle of success in their field ,
whether it be sports, entertainment, politics, science, journalism or
whatever, is suddenly qualified to provide an expert opinion on any
subject. Just ask them. And a lot of people are listening.
If you ever watch one of these interviews, you can’t help but notice how the
interviewer or host rarely, if ever, criticizes or questions the celebrity’s
viewpoint, no matter how off base or bizarre or controversial it is. They
(the interviewer) will merely smirk and remind us that only in this great
country of America, are we able to express such opinions. How lucky we are.
So I stopped watching all of them and I turn on my television set very
infrequently, if at all.
However, I’ve discovered that my frustration is not confined to just what I
see on television. There are a lot of people we come in contact with every
day who are brainwashed by political correctness and walk around like poster
board emissaries practicing PC and frequently testing and challenging those
of us who don’t want to conform. I’m too old to go to jail, so I try to
roll with the punches and sometime, I even find these people to be a new and
refreshing source of humor.
The latest example I can think of that had me talking to myself happened a
few weeks ago in my office building. I had an appointment with a potential
new business client, a woman referred to me by one of my other clients. She
was not due to arrive for another fifteen minutes so I decided to run
downstairs to have a cigarette. There’s no smoking in our building so we
have to go outside to the front or rear entrances to smoke. I’ve gotten used
to it and its really helped me cut down my smoking during the day.
As I stood near the front entrance about to light my cigarette, an
attractive blond came walking toward the door with a briefcase in one hand
and a cell phone in the other. Instinctively, I walked to the door and
opened it for her. She backed away from the door when she saw the cigarette
in my left hand and began waving her hand with the cell phone as if she were
clearing the smoke from her face.
When I politely reminded her that I hadn’t yet lit my cigarette, she gave me
a look as if I were standing in a Police lineup. I was tempted to say
something else, but I resisted. Good thing. When I got back upstairs, the
receptionist told me my visitor had arrived. I called in one of our young
female senior accountants who would be working with the client, to join us.
You guessed it, the visitor was the blond woman I had run into downstairs.
We introduced ourselves but as she sat down, it was obvious she was a
little embarrassed. That didn’t last for long. As we got into her business
and the kind of services she was looking for, she did a lot of talking and
her language was at first, surprising, then shocking and overall, extremely
unprofessional. And let me say that I’m no slouch when it comes to
vulgarity and profanity.(not that I’m proud of it)
As the woman continued to ramble, I waited for an opportunity to interrupt
her. She started talking about fees-- My fees, and said: “I don’t want to
pay for Cadillac services if a f----ng Ford or Chevy will do the job.” I
asked the young accountant to leave us alone for a spell. Then I looked at
the blond woman. Let’s call her Ms. Jones. “Ms. Jones,” I said, “I asked
Sharon to leave because she was uncomfortable and embarrassed by your
language. Do you always talk like that? She looked at me like I was nuts.
“What’s the f----ng problem? Are we here to discuss your services or is
this a morality check of some kind. Do you give all your new clients a
profanity Litmus test? And you of all people who puts those filthy
disgusting things in your mouth. You’re complaining about words. Everyone
uses those words and as far as I know, no one ever died from hearing them.
People die every day from smoking.”
Now I was getting pissed. “Ms. Jones, we have a couple hundred business
clients and I don’t know anyone who talks like that in their place of
business or when they’re in our offices. We all know men talk like that but
I don’t know many women that do.” “Oh so you don’t like women who act like
men. That f----ng bothers you doesn’t it? You probably think all women
should be dainty little feminine things. That the kind of women you hire?”
I gathered my composure and said calmly, “This discussion isn’t getting us
anywhere. I think perhaps you might find our firm a little too conservative
for you.” She got louder. “Shit, I don’t care what your f----ng politics
are as long as you don’t try to change mine. The only thing my business
partner and I care about is finding someone who knows how to screw the IRS.
We’re tired of paying all those f-----ng taxes.
It’s amazing to me how attractive some women are until they open their
mouths. The more she talked, the uglier she looked. I was trying to think
of a way to punch her without getting sued. Finally she got up and said,
Send me a proposal based on what we’ve discussed. I’ll discuss it with my
partner and we’ll get back to you.” By now I had forgotten what kind of
business they had .
As she got on the elevator, she said, “ you need to quit smoking, then you
won’t be so hyper and maybe you’ll lighten up a bit” I looked behind me and
our church lady receptionist was waiting to get on the elevator. She’s a
real sweet widow who still says “dang” it. She overheard the golden-voiced
Ms. Jones and smiled at her. ”She’s right Dick, you really should quit
smoking” Before the elevator could close, Ms. Jones got in the last word.
“Men who don’t smoke have better blood circulation and that means better
erections too.” What I would have given for a camera then to take a
picture of the look on our receptionist’s face as the elevator door started
to close.