Everyone’s got themselves a policy these days. The stranger the better. From beachside boutiques being “unable” to exchange or refund defective jewelry items (that they sold less than 24 hours earlier) to currency exchange centers in the “Greatest City in the World” refusing to accept coins, I’m getting overwhelmed.
Yet I want to play too, and have come up with some official, non-negotiable policies and protocols of my own:
1. I will not answer my phone between 11 p.m. and 7 a.m. during the week or between 12:45 a.m. and 10 a.m. during weekend hours. In the event of an emergency, please either text or communicate via smoke signals.
2. If your dog gets more than 1 thimble-sized globule of thick, sticky slobber on my clothing anytime before noon, you have to escort me to the nearest Starbucks. While I’m using one hand to wipe myself off with napkins, and petting the dog with the other hand, you’ll be busy buying me a grande bold blend.
3. If I have an aisle seat on a plane and, after having overdone it with the ginger ale, you get me up so you can use the bathroom 15 minutes before landing, amid heavy turbulence, you’ve forfeited your window seat. When you return to our row, consider that now-empty aisle seat your new domain for the duration of the flight.
4. The following terms and expressions are strictly forbidden in my presence and must be left out of all written correspondence that comes my way:
b. Sorry I’m not sorry
d. It is what it is
f. Any reference to the Village Voice as “the Voice”
g. Stoked, amped, or psyched
h. I’m just gonna do me
5. If you’re a cashier or server and I’m a regular in your store or eatery, and you give me a freebie or a discount that’s accompanied by a wink (or the body language equivalent), a precedent has been set – one that’s good for me, bad for you. Going forward, I’ll expect a bimonthly freebie or a discount of equal or greater value.
Such Masterpieces…My Masterpieces…
1 week ago