I just had the most unpleasant encounter at my posh gym.
We had a great day at the pool and even suckered my new NeBFF girlfriend that I picked up online to come get a tour and stay for pool play. The kids were great and fairly low maintenance. My niece had fun all was well. They even got out of the pool when I announced it was time to go, with nary even a whimper of a whine. I got them in lockerroom, got them showered with a great system of using two showers at once, and was almost all ready to go when some old leather-faced bag of bones with the frown that apparently really did freeze on her face just like that shouts out to me,
"Ma'am....MA'AAAAMMM...your son is too old to be in here. The gym rulllllles are 3 and under only."
All I could hear in my head was a song from Dora The Explorer: "I'm a grumpy old troll who lives under the bridge!"
Immediately I was pissed. Bitch gots to get up in there and ruin my great day with her gym-police. Where's your badge, and Walter Matthau did a much better grump than you.
Here's what I said, "He's three."
Here's what I wanted to say, "You should only call people older than you ma'am and clearly, YOU'RE the WAY OLDER AND GRUMPIER OF THE TWO OF US."
Leather face, "Well, he shouldn't be in here, it's under 3 years old."
Here's What I said, "No, I'm pretty sure it's 3 and under, and uh, HE'S THREE."
Here's what I wanted to say, "Bitch, please. Have you nothing else to do but spray your bleach blonde hair with your ozone infecting helmet head spray, hike your fake boobs into your chin and lotion up that leather skin than to GUESS WRONG as to the rules and age of my son?
Leather face, "No, It's UNDER THREE."
I did what any mother would do. I dropped everything, left my kids with my niece, walked away and went to check the sign which read, "Males over 3 years old are not allowed in Women's Locker room." I read it, and a staff kid walked by, "It's 3 and under in the locker rooms, right? My son is allowed in there if he's 3, right?" She said, "Yeah, no problem." I turned in anger, with a little seasoning of joy in revelling in my rightness, ready to tell this woman about it, and ran smack into her. "Oh, excuse me." Is all my wimp ass could muster. And then she did it with the snotty, "EXCUSE YOU." Like we were in high school and she was one of the Heathers. I just stood there dumbfounded at what an ass, and then pointed to the sign and said, "It's over 3, see." But she kept walking. BITCH.
On my way out of the lockerroom, the staff girl, with the job I want eventually, which is folding towels. Seriously, that'd be a great job, no pressure. Just fold towels. The girl stopped and explained that the lady is just like that and stopped HER after I left and asked the cute little girl, "Aren't you going to DOOOO something about that?" Great, now she's just ruined my hopeful job of a stress free towel folding. I told her what I'd wanted to say instead of what I actually said. The guy in the guest services, also folding towels knew exactly who she was talking about. I was outtraged.
As we were walking out, I saw the old hand bag at the cafe. And, yes, there is a cafe in my gym. That's where we had lunch today, so good. So I went up to her, Max followed me, and I tapped that biotch on the shoulder and said, "Ma'am (because that was the correct thing to do since she was about 40 years my senior), I wanted to tell you I am very sorry for bumping in to you."
"Okay." She said, without looking at me, because SHE KNEW AT THIS POINT WHAT I WAS ABOUT TO TELL HER NEXT."
"Also, I double checked the sign AND with two staff members here, and it IS THREE AND UNDER."
Then she did what no one should do to my children. Gloves hath cometh off, She gave MAX A ONCE OVER. You know the "What are you wearing" look and said, "Well he looks older than that."
So I said, "Well, in the locker room you argued that it was under three. And now you're looking at my son rudely and telling me, a six-foot mother of the child that he looks older. I just wanted you to know and feel okay with your day that the rules at the gym in the locker room were indeed not violated."
At this point Max had started crying because the lady made him feel like he'd done something wrong. So I picked him up, and said fairly loudly to her,
"I want you to have a GREAT DAY Ma'am."
"Okay, thank you." Still not looking at me.
I took a few paces, then I put Max down and knelt down and said loud enough so the lady and all the people in the cafe could hear the example I was about to make of her, "Max, it's okay, you did nothing wrong. That's just one mean old lady." And watched smiles on three employees faces as we walked out.
I'm still a little pissed about it. But I think I did fairly okay. I wanted to get all Jerry Springer on her and stuff. It annoys me that everyone at the gym new exactly who I was talking about just by explaining my encounter. That must be nice to be known as the gym grump. But I think I made a pretty good start to a beautiful thing. I'm going to taunt that leather hand-bag every time I see her. I'm going to change my workout when she's there, just to get closer to her and annoy her. I'm going to ride her ass and make sure she abides by the rules every day.
That lady jacked with the wrong mama today. I'm fairly proud of myself because usuallly I'm a big talker and do nothing at the time. But today, I feel like I stood up for my kid when I needed to.
Who's the next jackass? NEXT!
That's how I roll.