Rude Bitches Make Me Tired: Slightly Profane and Entirely Logical Answers to Modern Etiquette Dilemmas

Rude Bitches Make Me Tired: Slightly Profane and Entirely Logical Answers to Modern Etiquette Dilemmas by Celia Rivenbark Page B

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Authors: Celia Rivenbark
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    So, my advice would be to smile and say: “I don’t like to discuss politics.”
    If they start yammering about why you should vote for their candidate, you can say, “I don’t like to discuss politics.” Repeat as often as necessary.
    Question: A neighbor who is running for reelection to local office is always in “campaign mode,” no matter where she goes. I’ve even seen her show up at a funeral wearing her buttons and badges and (!) handing out magnets and bumper stickers. I’d like to set her straight but don’t have the gumption.
    Quick question: Is gumption grandpaspeak for “balls”? Thought so. While I do love a good refrigerator magnet because there’s always some piece of kids’ “artwork” I need to hang, having a candidate corner me in front of the corpse is fairly tacky. Local politicians can be surprisingly aggressive even when running for goofy offices like Soil & Water Conservation Supervisor. I’ve seen this sort of misbehavior in person, and it’s off-putting at best.
    Next time this happens, find your, uh, gumption and tell this opportunistic buffoon that “this is neither the time nor the place.” Say it in a very imperious Downton Abbey kind of tone for greater effect.
    Question: How can I convince my family not to talk politics when we get together for the holidays? My husband is the only non-Republican in the room, and he feels “ganged up on” most of the time. He’s been a pretty good sport so far, but he often wants to go home before we even get to the pumpkin pie to avoid my father’s bourbon-fueled soliloquy on how all liberals are Communists. I honestly can’t blame him.
    Holiday dinners are always minefields of misbehavior, aren’t they? It’s the rare family, indeed, that can sit down, have convivial conversation, and enjoy a nice meal without even a whisper of tension.
    The only thing you can do is to ask, in advance, that your family shape the hell up and stop being so disrespectful of your husband’s opinions and beliefs. Really, it doesn’t matter what party anyone belongs to. Mutual respect and consideration are the point. Hot-button topics like politics have no place at the holiday dinner unless you’re sure everyone’s on the same page. If so, yes, have a side of sanctimony with that corn bread dressing and green bean casserole, by all means. If not, talk about the weather or how the only begotten grandson performed so beautifully in a small but telling role as “third broccoli on the left” at his first-grade play.
    I’m not saying it’s going to be interesting, but at least your husband won’t feel the need to stab anyone with a meat fork midmeal.
    Question: A friend of the family passed away, and her obituary asked that mourners please, in lieu of flowers, make a contribution to the Republican party in her memory. I am having a hard time with this, as I am a Socialist. Can I just send flowers anyway?
    I never cease to be horrified by these extraordinarily presumptuous requests nestled in the latter paragraphs of some obituaries. I’ve grown fairly much accustomed to the dreadful request for “donations to defray funeral costs” (shudder!) and to requests such as the one you have just mentioned. I always feel just a tad grief-stricken for all the florists out there who used to make a veritable killing off funeral flowers and now are reduced to making ends meet on prom corsages, Valentine’s bouquets, and Administrative Professionals’ Day, whatever the hell that is.
    So, yes, by all means ignore the wishes of the family because they are, frankly, so unspeakably tacky, and send flowers or, better still, a nice peace lily that will live on until Uncle Snooky uses it to tamp out his cigarettes and it finally withers and dies.
    Politics is personal. Don’t hijack your loved one’s funeral in this manner, even if she okayed it from her dotty old deathbed.

 
    chapter 14
Always Leave Them Wanting More: The Art of the Visit
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