90 % of the phone calls I get are from my mother. For her, the phone is instant companionship. If she is alone and something happens, no need to hesitate, make a call and wahlah you have someone to share the excitement with whether it’s a deeply discounted Michael Kors sweater, a box of Cheez Its that just tastes off, or some moron who cut her off at the rotary, the story needs to be told. Pronto. She’ll forget how important it is an hour from now and the delivery will suffer. Her running themes have remained consistent over the years: food, money saving opportunities, and/or personal injustice.
My all time favorite:
Me: (answering phone) Hi
Her: ( whispering) Can you hear me?
Me: Yes. Why are you whispering?
Her: I’m at work and the toilet overflowed. ( still whispering)
Me: And why are you whispering about it?
Her: I flushed my peach pit down the toilet. ( it sounds as if she has now cupped the mouthpiece)
Me: Why did you flush your peach pit down the toilet?
Her: (pause) I was on the toilet eating a peach.
It’s ok for her to sashay across the office into the john with a big juicy peach, use the toilet as an impromptu breakfast nook, but when the disposing of edible waste in the toilet causes a public problem, THAT’S the moment she starts to think “Hmmm this might be viewed as unusual behavior. Let me call someone”
When I pointed this out to her she said:
“C’mon. You’ve NEVER brought a snack to the bathroom?”
I was tempted to refuse to respond but instead I said “ No Mum, I haven’t. Now do me a favor and promise me you won’t turn this into a personal quest to find someone who does. OK? Take my word for it, it is an uncommon practice that you should keep to yourself.”
“Fine. Can we change the subject?”
That innocent peach pit prompted rumors, most of them originating from my mother, as to which office outcast was so “completely out of their mind” that they would use the toilet as a garbage disposal, there were a few humorous handmade signs hung on the Ladies Room door
“ WARNING: Peach Eating in Progess” and a memo from HR regarding intelligent use of the rest rooms.
I haven’t heard anything about her unusual habit since but one time last year , I went to visit her and I slipped on a cherry pit getting out of the shower.
I pretended it never happened.
I didn’t want to know.
Thanks for listening
Kendra is a stand up comic living in Brooklyn where she owns a super comfortable bed. She spends most of her time wondering where the hell her sugar daddy is and hoping he didn’t settle.