Sunday, March 28, 2010

Surviving an Afternoon with My Mother

The blessed Beverly Hills event is coming up fast, and some of us have not yet found the appropriate wardrobe for the brunches, parties, et al. My mother emails me a few days ago to suggest we go shopping for dresses today. I have yet to find what I need, so I figure why not..what would go wrong? The following is just a few prized moments of the afternoon.

Lunch prior to dress shopping. We are sat and patiently (ok, one of us is) awaiting our server to come greet us and take our order. Mom is getting antsy, naturally. I know you're shocked.

Mom: "Where is our server??? Do they serve regular hamburgers here? I don't want cheese or bacon." (It's a fucking Applebees. I'm pretty sure they have burgers. Just saying)

Me: "Mom it's Applebees. I'm pretty sure they have burgers and you can leave off whatever you like."

The server finally comes to greet us and take our order. We both order burgers and I order a side salad to come before my burger. This does not happen, however I am not surprised by this. But we'll get to that in a little bit.

Mom: "Where is the server?? This place has the worst service ever!"

Me: "You wanted to come here, Mom. What did you expect from this place? Really."

Mom (5 minutes later): "Did our server die???? What is taking him so long?!?!"

The server finally comes with our food, bringing my salad and burger at the same time. Thanks, asshat, for living up to my expectations.

We eat, pay, then head to the mall. Oh, the mall......did I mention I loathe shopping in department stores? They annoy me. They make me itch. I try to avoid them. My mother, however, decides that we need to park near Lord & Taylor because we are clearly going to be spending the better part of the afternoon there. FML.

So we're in Lord & Taylor, looking for dresses for both her and myself. I, of course, found very little, while my mother was picking several different options to try on. She ended up liking none, then asked if there was a petite section (we are both petite, don't judge). The woman informs there that there is a petite section, but the section we were just in for the last hour (seriously, a fucking hour in one store....shoot me) is where all of the dresses are typically organized.

My mother decides the previous section isn't good enough so we must go to the petite section so she can search for more options. Nevermind the fact that there are no dresses in that petite section. As we walk thru the purse section, we see a man holding a purse. The woman he was with already has her own, so the whole "he's being a gentleman and holding it for her" excuse cannot be used in this scenario. Sorry.

Mom (loudly, no inside voices uses here): "Did you see that man with a purse?!?!?!"

Me (didn't even bother to turn around to address her): "Yes, Mom. Everyone saw. And now everyone just heard you yell that, so thanks."

Mom: "Oh, no one heard me!!! It's fine!" (Uh huh......)

We are now in the petite section, and there is maybe one dress, and it is far from appropriate for where we are going. Waste of time. So we go back downstairs to head towards the mall area. As we are riding the escalator down (to where we originally were!!!), my mother feels the need to comment on an observation of hers.

Mom: "You know, Dawn, I've always noticed how no one that works in a Lord & Taylor speaks English. Have you noticed that?"

Me: "Nope, don't pay attention. Sorry." (Really just attempting to stop this conversation from progressing, quite unsuccessfully I might add)

Mom: "Well, yeah. I mean they are always really nice, but I just notice that they never speak English that well."

Me: "..................................." (crickets chirping)

Did that really just happen? Yes, yes it did. Fantastic.

The rest of the afternoon is filled with things like "No, Mom, put that down", "No, Mom, you are not wearing that crap", "Really, Mom?", "What the hell were you thinking when you even bothered to bring that to me?", "Mom, I love you, but if you wear that shit, we are not related while we're there." I eventually stop even saying anything and just start giving the "REALLY??? FOR FUCK SAKE!!" look. She soon catches on and starts searching for things that are more.....we'll go with normal and in this fashion era.

We end up finding dresses that are appropriate for both the Friday and Saturday functions while we are there, so we can FINALLY be done with shopping and leave. We're driving home and she starts the usual navigation flip outs. You don't know what navigation flip outs are? Oh, here you go.....

Mom (driving): "Quick! Tell me where to go!! Where do I go???? Where do I turn???"

Me (in a calm voice): "Mom, you go back the same way you came. Logical, no?"

Mom (who, might I add, has driven in the area countless times!!!): "I don't know! You have to tell me!!!"

Me (rolling my eyes): "Ok, turn left then right at the light."

Mom: "Ok, where do I go after that left?" (she completely ignores the second part of the directions)

Me: "Right at the light, like I just told you, then left onto (insert street name here)."

Mom: "Where is that?!?! I don't know where that is! You have to tell me!!" (seriously?????)

Me (I lose it): "Oh my freaking Lord, Mom. You have GOT to pay more attention when you drive! I tell you a street name, you need to open your eyes and see that street name at the light. Or pull over and let me drive. Seriously."

She neither pulls over to let me drive nor does she stop with the step-by-step nagging/demanding/requesting of directions back to my house. I am now treating myself to a nice Advil/bottled water cocktail, as a result. Wow. Just wow. Had I known she needed fucking GPS to venture 1.5 miles away from my house, I would have offered to drive. Live and learn.

Lesson learned from this trip: Have a martini, or 4, prior to dress shopping with my mother. It might make time cruise/fly at a faster rate.....and it might render me more agreeable with respect to choices, driving behavior, and overall demeanor with people. Just saying.


  1. I'm wearing a nice sundress for Sat. Haven't picked out Friday night's wardrobe yet.

  2. I don't even have a dress. I don't have a single dress to wear.