Rewind: Christmas Eve 2005 (Or: My Sweetest Mistake).
At about noon on Christmas Eve, a little over two and a half years ago, my brother and I decided it was probably due time for us to begin (and finish) our holiday shopping. My mother wasn't what you would call. pleased with us, as our day of marathon shopping meant we wouldn't be around to help her with, or really get in the way of, Christmas preparations. Matt and I swore up and down that we had made a finely. tuned list as to what we needed and where we needed to procure it. After my brother swore he wouldn't again let me punch anyone whilst. fighting through an overly packed crowd of last minute shoppers, my. mother had no choice but to relent.
So off we went.
Our first stop was at the pet store to pick up gifts for all the extended family pets. (The Stars Family has a tendency to overdo it. Shocking.. While picking out a variety of toys, I spied the rowdiest Jack Russell Terrier with the sweetest face. Way too much money later, we had an addition to the Stars Family and a debacle of a Christmas shopping nightmare. All worth it.
Fast Forward: Yesterday.
I was strolling along Melrose in L.A. with a few of my favorite boys. (If there's anyone reading who has yet to check out Lights Resolve, do it). We stopped in The Puppy Store before the fantastic fun of haircut appointments was to begin. I spotted an amazing miniature French Bulldog and felt that another Christmas '05 moment was upon me.
I can't resist a sweet puppy face. I asked the Dr. Spock lookalike if I could please see the pup. Well, ladies and gentlemen, apparently Pretty Woman was based on fact and I was Julia Roberts. "Spock" gave me the attitude of the century and told me he would only take the dog out for customers who were serious.
Ok, what? I do not look like a homeless vagabond nor do the boys whom I was there with. despite their "rock band" status; I would gladly let any one of them babysit my child (if I had one). They look clean and respectable. And I have never once received money for sexual favors. (And NO, jerk, if you're reading this... cab fare and a t-shirt does not count.) So why the attitude?
I'm sorry that this blog has to again come crashing down on servicelology(thanks for the term, moon), but this was pure and total garbage. We
live in a world where "new money" is rampant. People like the dudes
from Jackass and thugged out looking rappers and porn stars can buy most of us out ten times over, so who is some Star Trek lookalike to assume
I'm not serious about a purchase? And, I live in LOS ANGELES where
there's an exponentially greater chance that any random on the street is some big-time movie producer's kid than in, say, Kenosha, Wisconsin.
Point is, though I'm none of those things, everyone deserves to be treated with a little bit of respect and not have assumptions made based on physical appearance. And I know if that was me wielding the very minimal power of being able to TAKE PUPPIES OUT OF THE CAGE (cool job, by the way, "Spock"), every time I busted an attitude, I'd be afraid I was pissing off Spielberg's daughter.
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