Author: ireneallison12

I was riding the bus last week when I was attacked by a MWCM, which stands for “Misty Water Colored Memory” (lifted from that gooey Barb song she sang before she got the perm that made her look like “Arnold Horshack” on Welcome Back Kotter–a dated reference but very true). As you have likely guessed MWCM is a sarcastic term. It defines an elderly concept in my “Ago” that is always attempting to change me into a sniveling old Shrew. We all have something like that inside (or will once fifty or so comes creeping), an ugsome, nettlesome something that (apparently) has invested heavily in old Shrew futures. I cannot kill mine but I can temporarily beat it to atoms by using my hard, old cold heart as a hammer. I often take satisfaction in imaginary acts of violence. They keep me balanced.

The world has always been a snippy place (for instance, the title of this wrap was sneered at me by my boss in 1981. You can’t say stuff like that to employees anymore, but I am certain that the feeling is still felt). In big cities, especially, people go out in public with war faces on. Regardless, you used to be able to count on a reasonable degree of faked manners from clerks when you were shopping (I was often one of those clerks). Not anymore. Nowadays, it appears that the Corporate Stores hire only soulless people for customer service.