Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Listen Up, Overcompensators

Is overcompensator even a word?  If it's not, I invented it. 

I've seen it with my own eyes.  I've smelled it's putrid breath.  I've been witness to the crazed behavior it creates.  I've seen how it can intrude upon others.  I've been touched by it. 

At least I wasn't drooled on by it, like someone I know.


So, among the 487 things I did today, I watched my baby girl sing songs with her fellow kindergartners on the last day of their kindergarten lives.  They had a little presentation in the gym amidst all the other stuff going on today.

I knew this, so I got there early.  Hell, who am I kidding?  I was at school the entire day.  But I sat out front of the gym extra early so I could grab front row seats for the little performance.  I was kind enough to save seats for some of the other parents, who happen to be good friends of mine, at least one of which is most certainly dousing herself in bleach this afternoon and no longer thanking me for saving that seat. 

Anyway, I got there early.  Did you get that part?  You know, where you arrive somewhere early enough to get the best seats?  Like, on purpose? 

Okay.  Good. 

I know you are all intelligent enough people to understand that is how it works. 

The row of people directly behind us need a lesson in it.  Apparently.

At some point right before the presentation began,  Ms. Overcompensator sat down.  She whined audibly about the people sitting in front of her who took the best seats.  Hello?  We are sitting two feet away from you.  We can hear you bitching.  And yes, we are snickering at YOU.

Head meet wall.

Then she decided that since she wasn't being given the seats that she so clearly deserved, she would lean all the way forward, perching herself just on the edge of her seat.  The whole time.  Breathing her nasty breath between our heads.

At least during the times when she was sitting. 

Then there were the other times.   

The time she screamed out "good little girl!"  and "pretty girl!" in her screechy voice in the middle of a song to draw her kid's attention for the pictures she insisted on snapping almost continuously.    Good little girl?  What is she?  A dog?  I don't talk to my kids that way, especially not in public.  Sheesh.

The times she practically used my friend's head as a tripod for her camera.   More than once, people.  More than once. 

The pinnacle of her rudeness?  When she leaned over a little too far to wave to the kid and drooled on my tripod friend's hair.  I so wish I was making this up.

I'm sure that everyone who videotaped the performance will be delighted to hear her commentary running through their video constantly.  Because nothing warms the heart of a sentimental parent more than some random chick yapping in the background.

I'm whining, I know.  But I can't stand to have moments that I want to cherish with my kids invaded by rude people.  Especially ones that are so clearly over the top trying to make up for their general lack of presence at everything else all year.  I can honestly say I've never seen this woman before in my life, nor had any of the other moms I talked to. 

Listen up, overcompensators of the world:

I get it, lady.  You're here and you're excited.   This is clearly the only thing you've shown up for all year and need to make sure the kid sees you.   And that everyone else knows you are there.  But don't be rude and interrupt everything.  Unless you actually have Tourette's, you can't just blurt shit stuff out in the middle of a performance by 6 year olds.  And please, don't drool on people.  That's just nasty.

I couldn't help but feel sorry for the girl she was there to see.  Poor thing.  She's still young enough to be clueless about how embarrassing her family was today.   That's going to change.

Someday, she's going to be mortified.


  1. Ummm....I would have had a few choice words for this woman. I know that may have made it worse but may have brought her out of her world. I'll need some practice in patience before Benedikt starts any group activities.......

  2. That's awesome. I mean, really. That's just bat shit crazy awesome.


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