When WASPy Tea Time Goes Bad!
- By Tracy Ames
- Published November 1, 2010
Tracy Ames
My name is Tracy Ames. I’m an author of interracial erotic fiction. My stories are a sensual feast for your senses; mind, body and soul.
I began writing short stories for monthly newsletters and, believe it or not, my friends. After much encouragement, I’m ready to offer you a taste of what only a few have previously savored.
A native of the San Francisco Bay area, I currently split time between Greenwich CT & New York City with my husband, young daughter and a host of pets.
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Hey folks!
We returned home a few hours ago. You know me; I kept a detailed journal of all the weekend’s happenings and was ready to bore your pants off! However, while having tea with Greg’s Great Aunt in Manchester, we observed some rather bizarre behavior coming from a table of fake WASP.
By ‘bizarre’ I mean loud, bitchy, inconsiderate to the wait staff, napkins tucked into their waistband, overdressed, over-quaffed, and the biggest social gaffe…the one glaring mistake…Children at the tea table!
I’ve never heard so many disapproving coughs or seen such a quantity of raised eyebrows*. Then came the huffs, puffs, scowls and mutters—then the wait staff started talking behind their hands! All these signs are invisible to the untrained eye but us in the know knew what lay ahead: Armageddon...spoons tapping against crockery. The horror!!!
Hey, WASP live by the adage 'don't start nothing, won't be nothing' . Tapping spoons...yeah, they'll go there if forced. Right about then, I started praying for the floor to open and swallow the wannabes. You could feel the distain in the air. I liken this showdown of wills to the Cuban Missile Crisis or Daddy punching Mommy at the dinner table. The tension was that brutal!!
At one point Greg turned to me with his napkin to his mouth and tears of laughter welling in his eyes, whispering, “I’m. Going. To. F*ing. Die.” My steel-spined husband was cracking under the pressure! I was lost, alone, and trapped. So what do I do? I stuffed my face with blueberry and poppy seed scones and prayed harder. I don’t even like blueberry and poppy seed scones.
I hear your grumblings. “Tracy, it sounds like the WASPs were inflicted with ‘Acquired Situational Narcissism”**
While ASN runs rampant in WASPville, your quick fire assumption is off base. Any WASP worth their trust fund knows instinctively that when having tea at an inn or teahouse, children, no matter how well-behaved, are a no-no. This sliver of alone time is meant for adults only. Had the patrons been tipsy enough, the less offensive slights could’ve been written off as poor breeding*** but children at tea is a cardinal sin! Don’t let the dearth of helpful signs fool you—it’s understood, darling!
Finally, he’s Aunt had enough and we walked to an art gallery down the sideway. Free at last!
We cried laughing on the way home. Then it struck me: I’m going to write a “How to pass as a WASP” cheat sheet with insider tips straight from the Mayflower! Totally tongue-in-cheek but not.
Be on the lookout…
See any children!? I rest my case...
* WASP 101: Low coughs and raised eyebrows the WASP first cues to said outsider to correct said offense lest the eldest/richest WASP present have them tossed out. Now you know, and knowing is half the battle.
** Per Chris Tennant: Acquired Situational Narcissism (ASN) is sometimes referred to as or confused with the ‘celebrity disease’. It’s defined by a delusional belief in one’s own awesomeness, typical triggered by irrational and prolonged public adoration and excessive employee ass kissing. Those afflicted display the full range of unappealing traits on the egoism spectrum, from insufferable arrogance to obsessive self-pity.
*** Poor breeding is a WASPy misdemeanor but you still won't be invited into the compound.
We returned home a few hours ago. You know me; I kept a detailed journal of all the weekend’s happenings and was ready to bore your pants off! However, while having tea with Greg’s Great Aunt in Manchester, we observed some rather bizarre behavior coming from a table of fake WASP.
By ‘bizarre’ I mean loud, bitchy, inconsiderate to the wait staff, napkins tucked into their waistband, overdressed, over-quaffed, and the biggest social gaffe…the one glaring mistake…Children at the tea table!
I’ve never heard so many disapproving coughs or seen such a quantity of raised eyebrows*. Then came the huffs, puffs, scowls and mutters—then the wait staff started talking behind their hands! All these signs are invisible to the untrained eye but us in the know knew what lay ahead: Armageddon...spoons tapping against crockery. The horror!!!
Hey, WASP live by the adage 'don't start nothing, won't be nothing' . Tapping spoons...yeah, they'll go there if forced. Right about then, I started praying for the floor to open and swallow the wannabes. You could feel the distain in the air. I liken this showdown of wills to the Cuban Missile Crisis or Daddy punching Mommy at the dinner table. The tension was that brutal!!
At one point Greg turned to me with his napkin to his mouth and tears of laughter welling in his eyes, whispering, “I’m. Going. To. F*ing. Die.” My steel-spined husband was cracking under the pressure! I was lost, alone, and trapped. So what do I do? I stuffed my face with blueberry and poppy seed scones and prayed harder. I don’t even like blueberry and poppy seed scones.
I hear your grumblings. “Tracy, it sounds like the WASPs were inflicted with ‘Acquired Situational Narcissism”**
While ASN runs rampant in WASPville, your quick fire assumption is off base. Any WASP worth their trust fund knows instinctively that when having tea at an inn or teahouse, children, no matter how well-behaved, are a no-no. This sliver of alone time is meant for adults only. Had the patrons been tipsy enough, the less offensive slights could’ve been written off as poor breeding*** but children at tea is a cardinal sin! Don’t let the dearth of helpful signs fool you—it’s understood, darling!
Finally, he’s Aunt had enough and we walked to an art gallery down the sideway. Free at last!
We cried laughing on the way home. Then it struck me: I’m going to write a “How to pass as a WASP” cheat sheet with insider tips straight from the Mayflower! Totally tongue-in-cheek but not.
Be on the lookout…
See any children!? I rest my case...
* WASP 101: Low coughs and raised eyebrows the WASP first cues to said outsider to correct said offense lest the eldest/richest WASP present have them tossed out. Now you know, and knowing is half the battle.
** Per Chris Tennant: Acquired Situational Narcissism (ASN) is sometimes referred to as or confused with the ‘celebrity disease’. It’s defined by a delusional belief in one’s own awesomeness, typical triggered by irrational and prolonged public adoration and excessive employee ass kissing. Those afflicted display the full range of unappealing traits on the egoism spectrum, from insufferable arrogance to obsessive self-pity.
*** Poor breeding is a WASPy misdemeanor but you still won't be invited into the compound.
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2 Responses to "When WASPy Tea Time Goes Bad!"
said this on 01 Nov 2010 11:48:09 PM CDT
You and Greg are cut from the same cloth. He emailed this madness to me this morning. He said you almost broke down.
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said this on 01 Nov 2010 11:52:45 PM CDT
Almost?! Hell, I barely held it together. Greg's laughing is what got to me. Outwardly, I was okay til then. You know how WASP are.
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