I Am a Whore to a Soccer Mom Pimp
It always used to infuriate me when some soccer mom would come up to me at work and try to get me to buy some ceramic “precious minutes” action figures so that their dumb kid could go to church camp or whatever. If the kids really want to go to swing choir camp, then they should come ask me themselves instead of enlisting their dandruff-laden, ugly sweater mothers. I mean, I’ve got enough problems…I don’t need to be guilted into purchasing figurines by a 36 year-old graphic designer, thank you very much. I actually had this conversation about ten years ago when I was younger and more extroverted with my assholism:
“Hey metten? Susan’s cheerleading club is selling cookie dough so they can go to camp, do you want some?”
“Wait a second…your daughter’s in a cheerleading club?”
“Yep. Three years now. They call me the ‘cookie dough mom’.”
“What do they cheer for?”
“Um…what do you mean?”
“I mean, don’t cheerleaders ‘lead cheers’ in the hope that a crowd will support the ‘cheers that they’re leading’ and cause a group or team to perform better? What team do they cheer for? What crowd are they ‘leading in cheer’?”
“What? No…they just do it for fun. They, like, do routines…”
“I see. So where is this camp?”
“Austin, Texas. Why are you asking all of these questions?”
“I just want to know if it’s a good investment.”
“Oh yeah, the camp is really fun.”
“So let me sum this up…you want me to give you my money so that you can turn around and give it to some guy in Hoboken, New Jersey who owns a cookie factory. In exchange, he’ll ship you cookie dough to give to me and you get to keep a few cents of his 300% markup…and all I receive to make me feel better about the exorbitant price I paid to some asshole in Jersey for shitty cookies I never wanted is the mental picture of your daughter in Austin, Texas, leading cheers to no one in support of nothing? I think I’ll pass.”
“Jeez. You could’ve just said no, you know.”
“You’ve got a lot of nerve. Why don’t you sell that handbag instead of pimping me out to the Jersey cookie man? I bet the money you spent on that ugly purse that you only bought because it matches your ugly sweater would pay for at least two weeks in Austin, Texas.”
“Why are you so mean? I am just trying to teach Susy how to raise money and work for something she wants.”
“For three fucking years? And where is Susy, by the way?”
“You’re fat and ugly! Fuck you!”
I have got to lose some weight. I would win way more arguments if I wasn’t such a fatass.
There was one time that I really appreciated being pimped by a soccer mom. I don’t remember what camp little Susy was hoping to attend, but they were selling trash bags to get there. Despite the fact that the ruse is essentially the same, and despite the fact that trash bags are generally less tasty than cookie dough – I appreciated the idea that they were selling me something I was going to need to buy eventually. That should be a lesson to all the little Susys out there. I also need toilet paper, shaving cream, vacuum cleaner bags and female companionship (the one and only time when an adult proxy is not only encouraged, but required) – these are all things you can sell me instead of plastic bullshit or cookie dough from Jersey. Or, you can do us all a favor by skipping the middle man and asking Wal-Mart for cash.
Anyway, I’m sure you get the point. If your charity or social club needs money, you will be much better off with me if you just ask for money. Don’t send your ridiculous-sweatered, $600 handbagged, self-entitled proxy to try and prey on my sense of guilt over the idea that little Susy will have to stay home and read books while all of her little friends are jumping around to bad techno somewhere in Austin, Texas…’cause I don’t play that shit.
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They don’t even ask around here, they just set the sign up sheet on the break counter and hope you’re dumb enough to pay $20 for $1’s worth of popcorn.
I only get that kinda thing from strangers because…well, people who know me know better. I am kind to these strangers and just say…”I’d rather give money to a bald guy to buy a hair dryer”.
Damn. We never even deleted the old bookmark–usually I check once or twice a week just in case. I didn’t this week. Always the last to know. Welcome the fuck back. Ya’ll get busy writing us some good dick jokes.
Brilliant! Glad to have the mock back! Keep it up!
I’m just happy that the rumors are true, that mockable is back in action. I guess I ought to start writing dick jokes to help out part time.
Aaaah yes, the time honored con game of “Let’s see who will throw money at me to make me go away?”
At least at my job it’s $1 candy bars that support other peoples’ kids’ questionable activities. That or girl scout cookies. Ieither way, it’s something I can use more than a packet of seeds or some such shit. Even if a box of 8 cookies costs $5, or whatever, at least I feel like I’m getting something for my investment. Not like the beggars who come around looking for payroll contributions to the CFC because “we have to get 100% support”. Them I always turn down, just by offering to contibute to whichever cause the chairman or ceo or whoever runs the place and the rest of their executive staff makes the same or less annual salary than I do. Otherwise, tell the asshole at the top if his organization needs money so damn bad, 90% his (or her) $750K per annum would go a long way toward closing the institution’s financial gap. Same with those asshole preachers on TV and the radio. “God says he needs you to send me a couple million bucks, but he sure don’t want me to raise thee money by selling my Learet”. Dickheads.
Metten…
Damn fine writing about something really worth mocking; short, declarative sentences, hardly any adjectives. This is major league good shit.
jtb
WOOOOOOOHOOOOOOO!!!!!!
Good to see ya back!
Dear metten,
So the truth is out. I knew it would be revealed sooner or later. I always suspected that it was that weasel from thewvsr that was the downfall of the greatest literary website in the world. Thank you for having the courage to stand up to that black hearted tyrant and proclaim to the universe that mockable is here to stay. Long live metten.
tncb
At my work (Government of Canada) they have a policy against soliciting in the workplace. You can put up a poster for hawking your crap on the employee bulletin board but you’re not supposed to actually approach people wth your lame sales pitch. It still doesn’t stop all the ugly sweater Moms with their relentless pursuit.
My daughters mom tried to recruit me into the cookie dough cult. I got out of it -without causing an argument- by quoting the anti-soliciting policy. My daughter went to camp anyway and I still have room in my freezer for meat.
I have a personal rule; I NEVER buy anything from anyone that contacts me. Ask me at work, knock on my door, call me, approach me in the mall…depending on my mood you’ll either get a “no thank you” or a “fuck off and get a real job you piece of shit.” Well, except for the time the lawn care company called me at my apartment. I told them to rush right over because of my cost no object imminent landscaping requiremets.
p.s. Welcome back.