It was Easter weekend, the last of the “major holidays” before the end of the year and that horrid Halloween would rear its ugly head once again. Halloween, a day where it was supposed to be about children and Trick or Treating but so-called grown adults have pretty much co-opted for their own purposes, allowing themselves to act the part of children and dress in outlandish (and often inappropriate) costumes and drink excessively. It was a holiday that often made Miss Manners look upon and cringe, wondering how any adult could bring themselves down to such an embarrassing level.
At least with Easter weekend, people behaved appropriately and as intended. Adults were adults, and children were children. Families would gather in the morning to attend church services like good people, and afterwards, children would search their home yard or parks for colorful Easter eggs the Easter Bunny had playfully hid the night before. Parents would give Easter baskets filled with chocolate and jelly beans and (maybe) some toy or random gift to their children. But best of all, the entire family would gather together for a proper meal of glazed ham, mashed potatoes, deviled eggs, macaroni and cheese, etc To Miss Manners, this was a proper holiday.\
But unfortunately, nobody respected holidays any longer. Not individuals and certainly not the workplace. These days many places of business remained open during family holidays such as Thanksgiving and Christmas when they should be closed so the employees could celebrate with their families but alas. The one day of extra income was more important to the CEOs and stockholders than any sense of family togetherness. Unless of course, it was their own. The CEOs and stockholders most assuredly took their holidays off.
For now, Miss Manners' feelings of discontent were also personal as well as professional as she herself had to work on Easter Sunday rather than spend the day with those she actually cared about. As she had to be in Phoenix, Arizona to compete for Sin City Wrestling’s program - of which she refused to acknowledge such a vulgar title. She would not get to indulge in leg of lamb or Au Gratin potatoes. She would dine on whatever fast food offerings they deigned to serve the staff in catering. She would not be taking part in any of the festivities. She would be inside of the ring, giving some pale tart the thrashing of a lifetime.
Small consolation, but a consolation nonetheless. At least it would give Miss Manners the opportunity to vent.
The setting at this point was a small coffee shop, locally owned because that is how Miss Manners worked. Not Starbucks. She supported locally owned stores in her community as everyone should. And this coffee cafe was one of her favorites as not only did it have a seating area so that one could enjoy yourself while seated in the sun when the weather was agreeable. But today she was seated inside, at a prominent table front and center before the largest window so she could both enjoy the sun and people watch, as it were. It would under most circumstances be an ideal time for rest and relaxation - were it not for the woman opposite her violating one of the most basic rules in health and regulations of cafes and restaurants.
She had brought her pet - a small dog - in with her.
Miss Manners watched in disdain as the woman held the small toy poodle in her arms, cooing at it as if it were a baby while feeding it from her fingers. Miss manners sipped at her coffee, her eyes burning at the violator over the brim when the woman finally felt she was being watched and looked up.
Woman: Is there a problem?
Miss Manners looked nonchalant as she shook her head.
Miss Manners: Not at all, unless you consider being so rude as to bring an animal into an establishment where people eat a ‘problem’.
Woman: He’s a service animal.
Miss Manners arched an eyebrow as while arguing against her, she watched the woman try to tuck her dog into her purse as if she were an overaged edition of Paris Hilton. Miss Manners then looked at her inquisitively.
Miss Manners: Really.
Woman: It’s an emotional support animal.
To which Miss Manners could only roll her eyes when a nearby employee approached their tables.
Employee: Excuse me, is there a problem ladies?
Woman: Yes! This woman is bothering me because I have my service animal with me!
Miss Manners: I thought you just said it was an emotional support animal?
Woman: Same thing!
Miss Manners shook her head.
Miss Manners: No, it most certainly is not.
Miss Manners then looked at the employee with a finger extended toward the woman and her dog.
Miss Manners: I would like to ask you to remove this animal from the premises? And her dog as well, if you would be so kind.
Woman: Excuse you…!
Employee: Ma’am, if it’s an emotional support animal then by law…
Miss Manners: Free to do as I asked. Under state law an emotional support animal is NOT protected under the same laws as a service animal would be. Now, I would hate to ask to speak to a manager or worse, report this cafe to the local health board for violating protocols as you are allowing pets indoors where you serve fresh food.
The poor employee looked as if he were caught between the proverbial rock and a hard place and he slowly turned toward the pet owner, almost helplessly.
Employee: Ma’am…
Woman: Never mind! I can see whose side you’re on!
She pushed her chair back and stood up.
Woman: I’m leaving and I won’t be coming back!
And she marched out, her nose in the air and her dog in her purse, trying to slam the door behind her but the build made it impossible and her look foolish. The employee shook his head and gave Miss Manners one last look before returning to his counter while Miss Manners sat back in her seat and sipped her coffee.
The day was vastly improving already.
Miss Manners sat in a cushioned chair in her study, a saucer on a small end table and a cup of steaming tea in her hand. A soft, classical melody played in the background as she was the epitome of calm and content, a soft smile on her lips.
Miss Manners: Kat. Jones. Well now, there’s a name that hasn’t been heard from in quite a while.
She shrugged in stark indifference and took a sip from her royal Doulten with hand-painted periwinkles.
Miss Manners: As I understand it. If truth be told, and I always tell the truth, the name completely escapes me. Kat Jones was well before my time and her recent … I suppose you could call it a return … was anything else other than epic. Her match announcement was made with little fanfare and as Krystal Wolfe stated on social media… nobody really made it known that they cared. Now I would never lower myself under most circumstances to agree with that female cesspit as it were, but what she said had more than just a speck of truth to it.
Miss Manners set her teacup down on its saucer and she crossed her legs as a lady and clasped her hands on her lap.
Miss Manners: Her match against yours truly is being billed as something of a return match, but can it really be considered anything close to a return when nobody paid close enough attention to even realize that she was even gone in the first place? Yet now here Kat Jones is, arriving like the Second Coming on Easter weekend, expecting the clouds to part and for the sun to shine down upon her like she was something - or someone - special.
Miss Manners scoffed.
Miss Manners: All Kat Jones has proven is that she’s like every other hussy on the Bombshell roster. She’s merely out for attention and she doesn’t care how she gets it. In her case, she tries to bill herself as to being more than she obviously is and she dolls herself up to look like Gothic Belle Barbie. She is certainly unique, that much I’ll give her. But as far as special?
She closed her eyes and smiled, shaking her head in the negative.
Miss Manners: That I can not give her. All else I can give her will be in due time, when we meet on Easter Sunday and afterwards?
She reached over and picked up her teacup once again.
Miss Manners: She’ll simply vanish once again into the ether as if she had never … ‘returned’ in the first place.
Miss Manners nodded to the camera and took a sip of tea as the scene closed out.
[/font]
