A story from my favourite columnist

[chrishansenhome]

I have occasionally featured in the "Up For Air" column in the Marblehead Reporter, as Fraffie, the columnist, and I are probably long-separated siglings or something. We see eye to eye on almost everything (except she's a Republican [but not the rabid modern kind] and I'm not).

The column this week featured a Martha Stewart Moment that is priceless.

We all know that Martha has her well-painted fingernails dug into the state of Maine, Mt. Desert Island, to be more specific, where she shopped one day in a small gourmet-food emporium in North East, South West, Bar or one of those harbors, and when at the checkout counter mentioned that she had not see a cherry-pitter on the shelves. The nice clerk apologized and said, “Very sorry, we don’t carry cherry-pitters.”

“Where’s your phone?” demanded La Stewart.

“There’s a public phone just outside,” said the clerk.

Martha then said (it gets better), “Do you know who am?”

“No, ma’am, I don’t,” said the clerk.

The gentleman behind Martha-baby in line tapped her on the shoulder and said, “Do you know who I am?”

“No,” says Martha, “I don’t.”

“I am David Rockefeller,” said the man in line, “and go use the pay phone like everyone else.”

The whole column is here, but I couldn't help myself—I had to reproduce it.

Thanks, Fraffie!

Comments

[tim1965.livejournal.com]

Some years ago, media mogul Ted Turner bought a massive ranch near Bozeman, Montana. Turner does not manage his ranch well; noxious weeds go uncontrolled, infecting other people's land and forcing them to use too much pesticide to control the invasive species. Turner built a monstrous house, and then had it lifted off its foundations and moved 2 degrees leftward because it didn't face exactly due south.

One day, Turner and Jane Fonda (his then-wife) went into a local steak house known for its magnificent cuts of meat and the superb cooking they undergo. It was Sunday, and the place was crowded with after-church families who were eating out. Turner demanded a table, and the owner obligingly gave him and his wife a seat ahead of several others. Turner then announced that he wanted a steak. The owner took down his order.

Turner said, "No, a steak. Now."

The owner said that several people were in line ahead of him, and it would be at least 30 minutes to cook the meal and let it rest. Turner freaked. "I want a steak and I want it now," he bellowed. He then pointed to the family next to him, who were just then being served their steaks.

"Give me that steak," Turner ordered.

The owner put his order book back in his pocket, and loudly said, "You can leave. Now."

And Turner and his wife were escorted out.

In Montana, rudeness and arrogance are not tolerated. Especially from people who think they are better than everyone else due to the simple fact that they have money.

[chrishansenhome.livejournal.com]

I think that since tactics like that work in LA or New York, those types of people think that they will work in Montana, Maine, and Massachusetts.

They don't.

Thanks for that story—I enjoyed it immensely.