The Mormons.

[Calling me at the office]

Daughter: Hello.

The Connie: Sammy! Sammy!! Dude!!!

Daughter: Hello mother.

The Connie: Hooligan got pet by a Mormon today!

Daughter: What? Did you say a Mormon?

The Connie: Yes, like Romney.  They are not so bad you know.

Daughter: How did you know they were Mormons?

The Connie: Well it’s obvious dude! They were dressed neat, and had a white shirt and black tie.

Daughter: So you don’t actually know if they were Mormon.

The Connie: No I do. I asked them. I said, “Are you a Mormon?” And they said yes and I let them pet Hooligan.

The Democrat.

The Connie: I don’t like Rick Santorum. He is too much a Democrat.

Daughter: What!? Do you even know who he is?

The Connie: He’s the Democrat running against Gingrich and Romney.

Daughter: Seriously? The Democrat?!

The Connie: Yeah, they all say he’s like so super Democrat in the race.

Daughter: Where do you hear these things?

The Connie: The news.

The Movie About the Goose.

Daughter: When I close the doors to the office it means I’m going to be on a conference call.  So please do not interrupt.

The Connie: OK.

[4 minutes later]

The Connie: (peering through the pocket doors like The Shining) Sammy. Sammy. Sammy. Sammy!

Daughter: (pointing to the phone in her hand and whispering) I’m on a call. Is everything ok?

The Connie: Have you seen the movie with the goose that learns how to fly? It’s kinda cool.

The Best Man.

The Connie: What was your best man name? He’s kinda cool.

Son-in-Law: Varun.

The Connie: Is he Italian too?

Daughter: His name is Varun.

The Connie: I know dude.  But is he Italian?

Son-in-Law: He’s Punjabi.

The Connie: Is that in the North or South of Italy.

Son-in-Law: Really far South. Like, in India.

The Soupy Tuna.

The Connie: They wouldn’t let me return the tuna!

Daughter: What tuna?

The Connie: I bought a tuna chunk can and it was yucksy pooey. So I took it back and they wouldn’t take it.

Daughter: You brought an opened can of tuna back to the store.

The Connie: Yes dude! That’s how they know it’s no good. It was like a soupy.  There was no chunk! And I talk to the guy and he tried to be Rico Suave, but he’s no Rico Suave man. And I told him it says chunk but there is no chunk. Not one tuna chunk! And he said I couldn’t return it cause I open it.  But how do I know it’s yucky soupy if I don’t open it!?

Daughter: Are you really this upset over a can of tuna? Where did you buy it.

The Connie: The Spanish market. It’s like kinda bad customer service dude.

Daughter: Well, it isn’t exactly a major conglomerate.

Son-in-Law: I don’t think they have extensive Management or Customer Service training.

The Connie: But it’s like bad customer service. And then all the checkout girls was giving a high five cause I yell at him.  I said “I’m not going to talk to a coorkrouch!”

Daughter: Coorkrouch?

The Connie: You know, like cucaracha! *La cucaracha, la cucaracha! Du nuh nuh nuh na na!* Oh, and they didn’t even have a poblano chipotle pepper!

Daughter: Are we still talking about the tuna? Why would there be peppers in the tuna?

The Connie: In the aisle.

Daughter: Cockroaches in the aisle?

The Connie: No! I asked for a chipotle pepper and they had none. But it’s a Spanish store! And they violate OSHA cause they have so much meat. It’s like, no way you can sell that much in a day. It’s like if I go there and see that so much meat I know they don’t sell it. It’s like, duh man!

Daughter: How is that an OSHA violation?

The Connie: You know they are making money off the meat, so why can’t they afford their employees? Whole Foods has good customer service.

Daughter: You can’t really compare Whole Foods and the local Spanish mart.

The Connie: Why not? It’s both food stores!  I’m going to find the owner and complain to him. No more Rico Suave manager.

The Rolling Dog.

The Connie: Hooligan was at the big park today. And he roll himself on the grass.  Then we went by later and he roll it again!

Daughter: Well, he is a dog.

The Connie: But it’s yucksy pooey with goose poops there! SO I had to wash him. And I took a big bottle of water and wash him in the parking lot. People were all staring and taking photos. But I don’t care cause I don’t want a goose poops in my car.

Daughter: Only vodka in your car, right?

The Connie: Yes, only vodka.

The Meter Maid.

The Connie: I got so mad today!

Son-in-Law: What happened?

The Connie: I saw a parking ticket person. And she was talking to a man on a stoop. And his car was park on the wrong side, but he was talking to the parking person. So I went and told her I got a ticket.  She said it wasn’t her and asked me where my car was so I show her.

Daughter: Um, mom.  Do me a favor, don’t talk to meter maids.  And if you do, don’t tell them which car is yours.  They will likely get pissed off and find any excuse to ticket you now.

The Connie: But Sammy! She was talking to the man and he didn’t get a ticket.  And she left, and then the brushy car cleaning thingy came and did sweeps and went around the car and he got no ticket!

Son-in-Law: Just don’t talk to meter maids anymore. Please.