I grew up in Minnesota. There, you often hear the term ‘Minnesota nice.’ Everyone is polite for the most part. So, in the spirit of making up catchy sayings to describe geographic locations…lets call Palm Beach “Palm Beach Evil.” Now I assure you, many of the people I met from Palm Beach were very, very nice. However far too many I encountered made me taken aback and wonder how on EARTH can people be this ridiculous. I saw first hand again and again that money can not buy you happiness…however lets be honest, it can buy you a smaller butt. Sigh.
Early on I realized that these people were not a people common to man. For example, I would walk around with a tray filled with gourmet, delicious hors d’oeuvres that I could not stuff into my mouth behind curtains fast enough. But when I would offer these decadent treats to guests, instead of a nice ‘no thank you,’ they would turn there head and pretend like you were invisible.
Eventually after years of experiencing the classic snobbery brush off, my co-workers and I pretend like we just thought they didn’t hear our polite offering. So, we would repeat it, louder and louder until the guest SURLY heard our question and saw our smile. To this I would get a down turned mouth that murmured no thank you, and another head turn.
Mission accomplished. Teaching the rich manners one guest at a time….
But the prime example of the Palm Beach mental illness came one sunny day, poolside.
We were working an event where everyone was asked to dress in white. The entire pool deck was a sea of white linen dresses, fake boobs, and Palm Beach boat shoes. Some guests, not being familiar with the event, asked if it was a cult meeting. Close, I replied. Charity event for the rich.
I was serving scallops. Delicious scallops. I offered one to a very nice lady and after plopping one into her mouth, expressed how delectable there were and asked kindly for another. “Of course mam!” I said, eager to get rid of them anyways and happy to encounter a nice human being.
But then, as her manicured nails reached in to grab another scallop, a man with a canary yellow sweater wrapped around his shoulders went in for the kill. The man wanted…a scallop.
His hand slides over the plate, and he quickly notices the other woman reaching in as well.
He gasps. Looks at her and says… this is a quote. A real quote. I am a journalist, I would not make this stuff up. Back to the quote.
He said, no, he yelled ” Excuse me! Before you put your grubby hands all over those scallops again do you think I could have one! Hmmph.!”
And he SLAMS down the scallop on my tray, turns sharply and walks away in his clean, perfect boat shoes and canary yellow sweater.
Oh. My. Goodness.
People like this exist.
After apologizing to the nice lady on the yellow sweater mans behalf, she muttered “I bet he beats his girlfriend at night.”
And with that, she popped another scallop in her mouth and walked away.
Just another day on the job.