Friends, Romans, country persons, lend me your ears! Lend me 10 bucks!! Lend me your Tesla!!! I am about to tell you the most pathetic story you’ve ever heard. (This is just between us, OK? Because if it gets out, my rep as a classy, early adapting, over-rated New Yorker will be ruined.) My pathetic story is about Zoom! Whatever Zoom is, that’s what this story is about! Because this story takes place in May 2020 when Zoom virgins were a thing.
A million years ago, at the start of the pandemic, before I was a Zoomie zombie, my ex-boss invited a bunch of us to a “let’s all share a Kumbaya moment” on Zoom.
“Kumbaya, my Lord, kumbaya
Oh Lord, kumbaya
Someone’s praying Lord…blah, blah, blah…”
I was soooo excited! I had something to put on my calendar: lose my Zoom virginity! I had something to live for!!! It was a last-minute invite so I dove into my closet, my first priority being to pick the perfect outfit so I wouldn’t be that person who appears on camera in her PJs with no makeup. That is an unbreakable rule of life. Two hours later, I was totally coordinated: my H&M cheetah sweater, red Chanel lipstick, and a rhinestone tiara from Dollar General. I was at the peak of my gorgeousness, but in a non-threatening sort of way.
Zooming: The New Reality
At 2:00 sharp – I am never late – I positioned myself at my computer and pressed some keys, totally Lady Gaga with excitement. Suddenly there was my ex-boss in his living room, along with his wife and two kids. Wow…What a mess. Stuff all over the place. Kids climbing on the furniture.
One was wearing a Frozen gas mask and a yellow rain slicker and the other an extremely saggy diaper – so unbecoming –and a Bernie Sanders firefighter helmet. The mom was in her bathrobe. With a martini in her hand. She was drunk. Wow…I could see them all! But – apparently — they could not see me. It turned out that my computer doesn’t have a camera. Windows 7…What can I say? I was a ghostly, disembodied voice seeping through the screen.
Me: “Hello, George?”
G: “Hi, loser.”
Me: “Hi, George.”
G: “Don’t you know that no one uses Windows 7 anymore?”
Me: “No.”
G: “You’re fired.”
Me: “But I quit last summer.”
G: “I was wondering why I never see you. And I still don’t see you. Get a camera, damn it.”
Zooming: The New Reality is Tricky
Making matters worse, it soon became clear I was the only one attending the Zoom Kumbaya event. “Of course,” I realized. “Everyone else is busy doing important things like teaching online algebra to two-year-olds.”
The dreadful reality began to sink in: soon my former co-workers would know I had nothing better to do during a pandemic than sit in front of my computer wearing a tiara, which, by the way, kept slipping off my head onto my face. it was just as well I was invisible. Look, it’s not like I fancied myself a princess. Not at all. I’ve always been a feminista. But, when COVID shut us down, I just needed to feel a tad bit, well, extra special. And there isn’t anything more special than a princess. Right?
Suddenly I had an EPIPHANY! “This is not the moment for a pandemic pity party.” My ex-boss looked like he was about to shoot himself: this was the moment where I could choose to be a good person. Going forward.
So I decided to initiate a conversation with his three-year-old daughter. Give the poor guy and his drunken wife a break. I love kids and Jenny turned out to be a really good sport, speaking as she was to the voice of a total stranger. And as cute as our neighborhood chipmunk. Chippy.
A Thoughtful and Productive Exchange
Me: “So, uh, what’s your favorite color?” (Such a pathetic question…)
Jenny: “Rainbow.”(What am I supposed to do with that?)
Me: “Uh…um…what’s your favorite thing to do?” (It’s probably eating boogers.)
Jenny: “I like to eat boogers when mommy isn’t looking.” (I’m very comfortable being right.)
Me: “Jenny, you can pick your friends, and you can pick your nose, but you can’t pick your friend’s nose.” (Would she find this helpful?)
Jenny: “Why?”
Zooming: Secrets Are Revealed
Jenny: “I have a boyfriend.” (Do I smell hanky panky?)
Me: “You have a boyfriend?” (Do mom and dad know? Or is this on the down-low?)
Jenny: “Yeah. His name is Kenny.” (Sounds Jewish. That’s good.)
Me: “What does Kenny do for a living?” (I sound like a mother.)
DEAD SILENCE
Jenny: “Do you want to share my apple cinnamon rice cake?” (Precious child.)
Me: “Oh, yes!” (Making crunching sounds) “Very yummy.”
Jenny: “My daddy’s boobs shake up and down when he jumps.” (I am so glad I don’t work for him anymore.)
Me: “What about your mom’s boobs. Do they shake?” (I cannot resist.)
Jenny: “Are you a good witch or a bad witch?” (Is she setting me up to take a fall?)
Me: “I’m a bad witch. I am also the Devil. And I wear Prada.” (Satan is whispering in my ear.)
Jenny: “Dadddeee…I don’t want to talk to that lady. She’s scaring me!!” (Little monster.)
George: “You’re fired. Again!!!” (Old fogey.)
Signing off, I asked myself, “Is it better to be laughing hysterically or sobbing hysterically?”
Famous Last Words
In closing, I want to say this. I know ya’all are busy. But sometimes you just gotta get pissed to the gills. So if you’re facing your 18th ZOOM meeting of the day or doing good deeds and getting punished for them, raise a glass of Sheep Dog Peanut Butter Whiskey, get drunk as a skunk, and carry on!
Elvis has left the building.
Great memory of an early Zoomer. I can see why you remembered it!
What an experience! Frankly, I felt like an idiot! Oh, well. It twas what it twas.
This is so much fun! I looooved your pathetic story ahah
Its feels very honest but written in a very clever way at the same time. I almost felt I was participating in that zoom call and kind of made me miss all this awkward zoom situations that happened during isolation lol
Sooo glad you looooved my pathetic story! And it’s all true. Mostly. But, hey, what’s the diff between “truth” and “truthiness” anyway?!