Whine #3: The Smile of a Crocodile

            She sailed away on a warm sunny day

            On the back of a crocodile

            “You see,” said she, “he’s as tame as can be.

            I’ll ride him down the Nile.”

           The croc winked his eye as she bade them good-bye,

            She wearing a big, happy smile.

            At the end of the ride, she was inside,

            And the smile on the crocodile. 

Perhaps if I’d heard that poem as a child, I wouldn’t have fallen prey to Perpetual Smilers, those people whose smiles go on… and on… and on, never varying, never wavering, plastered like cement across their faces, no matter what the occasion – weddings, funerals, and everything in between.

I met my first Perpetual Smiler in fifth grade. Her name was Gretchen, and she had a non-stop smile that lit up a room.  Maybe even the sky so I felt blessed that she wanted to be my friend -- my very best friend.  “You can tell me anything you want,” she said.  “All your secrets are safe with me.”   

                           

And because of that smile, I trusted her and told her who killed the rabbit, where it was buried, and who really took the jokers from my parents’ card decks.  And you know what she did?  Yeah, you know, and I should’ve known better.  I do now …but now…now it’s too late!     

My next Perpetual Smiler was Meena.   She wore a smile so bright it could blind you. It blinded me.   

 

Six months after she joined our corporate staff our previously efficient, effective, and harmonious office was in turmoil.  Rumors, back-biting, and whispering campaigns marked Meena’s tenure.  Three people quit, two were transferred out of the office (I was one of them), and one poor soul had a nervous breakdown.  Through it all, only Meena kept on smiling --  and with good reason.  She’d been promoted… to my job.

I should’ve ripped that smile off her face, but I didn’t, and now….now it’s too late!

I must be a slow learner; otherwise, I would’ve been prepared for Jack, who had a smile to charm your pants off.  It did mine.      

After we’d been dating a few months, he told me he needed $10,000 to pay off some bills at his fortune cookie factory.  “Just for a few weeks,” he said, his already far-reaching smile stretching beyond belief.   “Until my refund check from the IRS comes in.”   I loaned him the money, and that was the last I saw of smiling Jack and my $10,000.  Yeah, sure, now I know, but now it’s too late!  

THE BOTTOM WHINE:    If you know or meet someone who’s never without a smile, take my advice and run, run as fast as you can and in the opposite direction because no one is happy all the time.  The Perpetual Smiler is either crazy, one miserable patootie, or out to get you.  Possibly all three. 

Carol Mizrahi is the author of "Coming of Age...AGAIN," a novel about four friends of a "certain age" who prove that with a mix of moxie, humor, wisdom, and a weekly mahjongg game, coming of age can happen more than once!

www.amazon.com/author/carolmizrahi

 

Whine #1: THE BUST OF THE BRA

Up until recently, the part of the bra called the clip or slide tab (see bra parts below) that allowed the wearer to adjust her bra straps was positioned on the front of the strap … as well it should be; after all, to make realistic adjustments one must, first, be IN the bra and, second, be able to see and reach the clips.     

 

Then, suddenly, almost overnight, there came a frontal attack on women.  Bra manufacturers, en masse, implemented the Bra Clip Transfer (BCT), repositioning the clips from the front of the bra to the back.

Now let me explain what this means in terms of time and convenience.  Suppose it’s a work day.  You’re in your office, and you feel things (hmmmm) slipping, the result, perhaps, of daytime gravity pull.  Before BCT you simply reached up and under your blouse (or down, over the top) and quickly readjusted the straps.  Now -- unless you’re a contortionist with a pair of eyes in the back of your head -- you must either call in a colleague for help or head down the hall to the bathroom, take off your top and bra, guesstimate the amount of “lift” you need, put your bra back on, and if you guessed wrong, start all over again.   

I wanted to know who was responsible.  And why they did it. 

I polled bra manufacturers.  “Was it a male or female designer?” No one would tell me, but I’m convinced men were behind this thrust since no sane woman would voluntarily handicap herself in this way!

Then I asked why.  Apparently, women were embarrassed that bra clips could be seen under their clothes. This is patently ridiculous for three reasons:  one, bra clips are virtually undetectable; two, if they could be seen on the front of one’s clothes, then they would be just as visible on the back; and three, would women who have made bra straps (ranging in color from dingy white to dirty gray) a fashion statement (giving rise to a new line of jewelry called “bra strap covers” – see below) be “embarrassed” by the hypothetical existence of clip blips? 

  

BOTTOM WHINE!  There is no rational explanation for the BCT.  So why did it happen?  It happened because designers are always redesigning --arbitrarily, it seems-- so consumers will always be buying, replacing the old with the new, and who protested?

That’s the bottom whine!

     

Carol    

 

Author of “Coming of Age…AGAIN”

www.amazon.com/author/carolmizrahi

All images are readily available on various places on the internet and believed to be in the public domain.  http://www.thebottomwhine/ claims no credit for any images featured on this site unless otherwise noted.  If you own rights to any of these images and do not want them to appear here, please contact me, and they will be 
promptly removed.