Friday, September 10, 2010

Madame Sunday calls a construction dude.


MS: Hi John, my name is [a madame full of fabulosity] and I’m beginning a kitchen remodel soon.  [Friend of fabulosity] gave me your name and I wanted to set up a time for you to see the space and for us to talk about the project.  Please give me a call back at 1-900-FABULOSITY so we can discuss details.  Thank you.

*day later*

MS: Well… maybe he’s busy.  [Friend of fabulosity] did say he has multiple projects… 

Self: It’s barely been 24 hours.  He’s a professional not a booty call.

*another day passes*

MS:  Ok…  It’s not like I wanted him to start work immediately!  I just want to talk…  it takes me weeks to decide what I want to eat for dinner so I’m flexible with his schedule. 

Self: chillax bitch

*three days later*

MS: Ok it’s been 5 days.  In construction time that’s like a day and a half so I need to readjust my normal person calendar to reflect this alternate dimension.

Self: Right. Their axial rotation is slower so longer days genius.

*2 more days*

MS: do you think he got my message?  Was I using AT&T and didn’t know it?   I mean technology these days is so primitive and who can really be sure of anything…

Self: Maybe you spend too much time on twitter to remember that it’s a FUCKING TELEPHONE and messages don’t disappear like some mischievous fail whale out to sabotage your communications and embarrass you in front of gawd and everybody.  #omigodthatDMwasprivate

MS: You don’t know!!  Shit happens!

*another day*

MS: Do you think it was something I said?  Maybe my tone...??  I used my professional voice – the one without the redneck twang and giggles – to seem as serious as possible…

Self:  Are you sure?

MS: No.  Is this like the time I tried to buy a car and no one would help because they thought I was just joyriding all their most boring and dependable reasonably priced automobiles and loved having my credit checked for the hell of it?  Because it’s NOT!  I have money – dozens and dozens of money - and I want to give it to someone in exchange for some goddamn cabinets!!

Self: It’s exactly like that.

MS: Fucking sexist bullshit.

*5 minutes later*

MS: alright maybe he’s not a sexist asshole.  That was wrong of me.  I’m sure he’s a wonderful person.  Just a total fucking idiot.  How much clearer could I make it?   I – Want – You – To – Call – Me.  I can’t make it much more obvious!  I even did that eyebrow thing because even though he couldn’t see me on the phone he knows.  OH, he knows!  *nods knowingly*

Self:  I’m not so sure he does…

MS: Shit – how do I let him know that I’m really serious but not one of those crazy needy whiny clients?  I’m totally cool and casual  – I’ll buy beer and make cookies and stuff when needed…

Self: Well, how do you normally make your intentions known?

MS: So I need to call when I’m drunk?

Self: Put the gawddamn bottle down!

*3 days later*

MS: Ok maybe I without the giggles and twang my professional voice just came off like bitch voice.  No one wants to work with a bitch so I could totally understand why he wouldn’t call back.  Ya know,  I’m always like that – so demanding and bossy and it’s really a wonder I have any friends at all!  They’re just around to hang out with Charlemagne and use me for my vodka-soaked gummi bears and omigod I’m going to die alone and kitchenless in my hoarder house filled with old Elle Décor magazines and Starbucks cups and I’ll have to tie myself to a chair when I sleep at night to keep from falling into the mound of filth that surrounds me which is the metaphor for my wasted life and crushed dreams insulating me from the a world of fulfilled promises and nice cabinets!!!  *sob, sob, sob*

Self: Probably.

*5 days, 3 bottles of wine and 2 (ok 3) Caramellos later*

MS:  You know what?  Professional voice sometimes sounds a lot like phone sex voice because of the lower octave so maybe he’s not calling for another reason...  He WANTS to call TOO much!!!  Eh?!  Eh?!  *nods knowingly*  He was so stunned by the fabulosity that was positively dripping from my 20 second voicemail that he’s paralyzed with fear!  It happens a lot around the madame obviously…

Self: you’re drunk again right?

MS: …because of the pure shining awesomeness of my radiant feminine energy!  Mee-oowwwww.  Hell people can’t help it – it’s just biological.  You can’t fight nature.  And I’m 100% grass fed no-GMO all organic natural hotness that puts the fear of Hades into weaker men. 

Self: Do you mean moo?

MS: Shut your face hole. I’ll just wait for his nervous jitters to subside and then he’ll call…

*random time in the future*

MS: he’s not going to call is he?

Self: nope.



  1. I always write Wow, which is getting tired. But well...WOW...I loved this post. Is your pain and anguish giving me I feel badly for you...yes.

    Thanks for making me happy at your expense.

  2. Oh Madame, you never fail to amuse. Thank you.

  3. Extremely Average - I aim to fail and then please.

    Paul - WHY WON'T HE CALL ME?????

  4. I'd have called back THAT DAY. & would've saved you all the wasted energy of self-analysis. Or at least help you preserve it for something much more deserving.

    You're *obviously* calling the wrong kitchen contractors!

  5. Becky - The self-analysis comes daily and can't be stopped!! And yeah I've moved on - it was him not me! Of course this is the 3rd time it's happened this summer... Maybe it IS me??!!!!!

  6. It's you AND me, Madame. I had the same thing happen and dude was stunned when he called me a week later and found out I'd already moved on to someone else and had no need of his services. (Although his were so much cheaper than the responsive people's. Le sigh.)

    Also, we watch the same TV shows: I love Hoarders, because it makes me feel better about my own paper "collection."

  7. what is wrong with these guys. . . ?!!! If you called me. well . . hear it "jen I'm going out of town for a bit." BUT alas I don't presume there is a holiday inn in a place like Chattavegas.

    Great post madame -- it's not how you do it but who you know. . . ask around and be persistent as in "I am gonna bug the f' out of you until you give me what I want."


  8. MS - very funny. Had the same experience with a major master bath remodel years ago (minus the fabulosity, of course). If he doesn't want the job then you probably don't want him...

    BTW, love the photo of you in the black boa and heels. Fabulosity indeed.

  9. Kim - yep, you snooze you lose suckers! And I'm really glad you got that Hoarders episode reference... It makes me feel warm and fuzzy - like I'm snuggled in a big pile of garbage warm and fuzzy.

    jb - you're right. There isn't a place as nice as Holiday Inn in Chattavegas. We have some sheds for rent though... And unfortunately this guy WAS highly rec'd through a friend. Bet he's at her house working right now... asshole.

    David - Glad you liked my self portrait. I'm wearing that exact outfit right now - it's my lounging-around-the-house look. I guess since this dude never called me back he won't get to see the boa. His loss. ; ) Thanks!

  10. Clearly your aura of fabulosity is so intense that even low fidelity voice-mail recording devices provide no shield, and whomever you contact is instantly incinerated never to return any call again.

    That or they don't actually like money.


  11. CLEARLY!! Or I'm calling the only contractors in the world who are already rich. I like the first option better... ; )