Wednesday, June 10, 2015

                                                     




            ASSEZ! (ass-ay!)






                      


     I have a new condition of which I am neither proud nor embarrassed. In fact, I am just annoyed by it. I don’t know what to call it, but the only remedy is ASSEZ! This word means “enough.” I was reminded as I was thinking about this condition of a statement made by a guy I used to date. He was far from an intellectual, but he was very “street smart.” He said, “Anything can be boring or annoying if overdone--even good things.”
In other words, even too much money, too many vacations, too much beach time, too much wine--anything that is overdone can get boring, meaningless and annoying. Some may disagree, but over the years, I have come to agree with him.

     Recent cases in point:  

     I went to the Tennis shop with Mr. Wonderful to pick up a demo that he thought he might like for his birthday. It was a big birthday, so I figured I needed to buy him something special. We pulled into the parking lot in the pouring rain, and I waited in the car while he went in to pick it up. Fifteen minutes passed, and I was still sitting in the sweltering car wondering where he was. He finally came back and said, he had to wait because someone else was with the young clerk. First thought to self: “All that time, and he didn’t even get waited on. Joy.” So we sat in the car for another 15 minutes until the lady came out, and he could go back in. Another 15 minutes went by, and by now, I’m beginning to get impatient and annoyed. He came back to say that the guy couldn’t find the racket in question, but finally located it and he had to string it. “How long?” I asked. “He said it would be about 20 minutes.” Twenty minutes later, I am apoplectic. I have gotten out of the hot car twice to pace the parking lot in the rain, keeping my tiny mouth shut, as this was his gift, and I didn’t want it to be associated with my inner hysteria. It has now been 50 minutes, and I am ready to kill someone. Mr. W. says, “Do you want me to take you home, and I’ll come back to get it later?” “No,” I say, as there were other errands I wanted to run. Twenty minutes later, he comes back with the racket. By now, I am quietly out of control. I say nothing.  This was my first recent “ASSEZ!”

     Three other cases followed over the next few weeks. Here is one example that was repeated by three different people.

     We are out with friends. After three glasses of wine, my friend starts telling stories about her past. At first, they are entertaining, and we made the mistake of acting entertained. She took this to mean, “Oh, I’ve got them now. Let’s go for the marathon monologue.” It didn’t matter to her that I had heard these stories at least twice before, she continued for at least 20-30 minutes with her monologue. There was nowhere in her stories that we could have interrupted and changed the subject without being rude. We were story-stranded. After 7-10 minutes, unless the person is a stand-up comic, I am tired and starting to tune out. I silently rage thinking to myself, “ASSEZ!” but I say nothing.  I don’t know what you call this other than being a wimp and not being assertive, but Mr. W. and I have decided we are way too polite and we listen too well. Some would find that hard to believe, as I am a public speaker and a performer so I can talk with the best of them. The difference is I take breaths, I let others respond, and I don’t dominate the conversation assuming everyone is dying to hear my every word.

What’s wrong with me? Rien. I have just had ASSEZ! 

(No one reading this would ever do this. The guilty parties are too busy blabbing.)

P.S.  He didn’t like the racket. I had to start all over trying to figure out what to buy for the man who has everything. ugh.